The Maze Runner: The Manifestation Chronicles
by Asfaloth-Sekhmet
Summary: Inka is thrust into the Glade with little to no memory, a marred face and a thirst for escape. The Gladers are hesitant to welcome her and her difficult attitude that constantly pushes, but she may be part of the push they need to save themselves. Newt/OC. Rated M for mature themes.
1. Flight

**Flight**

 **This story is sort of a mix between both the book and the movie, as I wanted to include both adaptations as I felt that both pieces of work were well done. Although there will be some personality changes in the characters (I made Alby to be a bit rougher around the edges like the book instead of the kinder version seen in the movies) things will stay relatively the same. The Maze's clues are too complicated for me to write, so I'm going to stick with the basic mapping, and I will try to describe things/people paying both the book and the movie homage. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.**

There was nothing but the clanging and grinding of metal against metal in the small cage as it was lifted through the long shaft, gaining speed as it went. The supplies inside, consisting of ropes, some animals, barrels and food rations, rattled slightly at the movement. The various objects were organized neatly into separate corners as to make spare space in the middle of the enclosure where a body lay. The underweight girl lay curled into a ball, unconscious only until a particularly large rattle startled her out of her coma. She bolted upright with a shock, brain scrambling to try and puzzle out what was going on as she gazed at her surroundings and felt her heartbeat pick up rapidly when she realized she was moving. It took mere seconds for her to also recognize that she was soaking wet, only adding to her anxiety. Numerous panicked thoughts flitted across her mind as she tried to decipher why she had absolutely no memories of her life prior to this moment, and her anxiety only increased when she couldn't remember why she had been placed in the cage or where she was. She had no information to speak of in her brain as to how she had been put into this moving metal contraption, and it was then that the girl realized she had no memories to speak of whatsoever. The pictures and thoughts were erased, as if someone had replaced them with a blank slate and pretended that they had never existed. She quickly maneuvered herself into a fetal position near a large barrel, heart rate increasing in time with the cage's rising and finding herself crying out in fear as a large ominous red light greeted her eyes above. The cage plummeted upwards towards what was obviously it's destination and didn't showing any sign of stopping until suddenly, it jolted to a stop and knocked the girl out of her spot. A loud buzzer marked the red light above her turning green, and the tiny youth recollected herself quicker than she thought was possible to re-assumed her protective position. There was nothing around her that she could use to protect herself besides several small boxes, but she wasn't even sure what she was going to be exposed to and doubted that hurdling those kinds of objects at possible opponents would help.

The green light quickly disappeared, and she was left in darkness with only her rapid breathing to greet her ears before there was a large clang and light flooded the cage. Her small body squinted against the bright visual onslaught, and she cowered closer to the side of the enclosure she had been brought up in. It took several seconds for her eyes to adjust to the light, but when her vision finally cleared enough she realized she was several feet in the ground, still surrounded by the cage and looking up at a circle of boys who were peering down at her in awe.

"It's a...it's a girl!" One of them guffawed. She still couldn't see perfectly, and her panting only increased when she saw the sheer number of the group.

"Holy shuck..."

"Get out of the shucking way," Came another, much rougher tone. "I want to see!"

"What happened to her face?" This time the voice was soft and youthful.

 _Something was on her face?_

"Slim it Chuck," Came another voice. "That's a rude question."

"This isn't supposed to happen," A British accent greeted her ears this time. "Why would they send her up?"

Suddenly one of the boys opened the doors to the cage, causing the girl inside to stumble back and protect herself behind anything she could find. The crowd, however, wasn't having it, and the strange looking boy quickly jumped down in the cage to begin stalking towards her. The tiny wide eyed brunette's panic moved her fast and she swiftly darted around his attempt to lunge at her, using the boxes to propel herself onto the upper level where the surrounding members of the group cleared the area for her and did not try to make any moves to stop her in their stunned silence. She wasn't sure what to do at this point; she was in an unknown location with unknown people who quite possibly wanted bad things to do with her, and she couldn't even remember who she was. And as far as she could hear from the rumbling of what seemed to be the crowd, she was the only woman. At this point, the boys had made a loose circle around her and had continued to stare, looking her up and down as if they had never seen a woman before. She stared at as many as she could, eyes wide and body tense as she flinched at every noise she heard. The boy who had joined her in the box quickly jumped out of it again, grabbing her by the arm and swinging her to face him. This alarmed her, activating her reflexes which propelled her arm almost subconsciously into the boy's stomach and making him double over in pain. She took the attack surprise as an opportunity to run, allowing her adrenaline to fuel her as she barreled past the barricade of boys and sprinted mindlessly.

"Hey!" There were cries as she allowed her feet to carry her far away from the shocked group of boys, some of which sounded a bit too excited to see her take off. "We've got a runner!"

In a startling display of speed, the girl took off faster than any of the boys had seen each other run. Her feet seemed to propel themselves more and more with every pump of her legs, and despite several of the members of the group she was running from taking off after her, she continued to run through the large open field that lay between her and the giant wall. The girl, however, still had not acknowledged the fact that she had merely been transferred from one cage to a larger one, and was seemingly fascinated with her speed as well. Her eyes grew wide as she acknowledged the power of her strokes and the wind in her short scruffy hair; hair that she couldn't even remember she had. She flew past the small villages they had established, putting more and more distance between her and whoever was following. Their shouts had gone from being excited to concerned as they realized she had a chance of escape, and their voices quickly turned hostile. The main thing on her mind was to get far away from whoever had taken her, and as far as she was concerned, it meant getting away from that box and those boys. If she was being delivered to them it could not mean anything positive, so she focused every fiber of her being on her escape.

The girl ran faster and faster, hurdling straight into the woods where branches whipped at her face and sliced into her skin. Although the bushes attempted to stop her flight, her boots and long pants managed to protect her and the small girl pressed on. She willed herself to keep going out of the sheer fear of what would happen to her if she was caught, and found that the adrenaline provoked by those thoughts fueled her speed to increase tenfold. It was then, around several minutes later when the voices finally faded out behind her, that she stopped running. Her breathing rate, despite still being in shock, was not very fast. She wasn't sure where exactly she was – the world was vast and she was certain that she was close to some kind of highway or something of the sort, so she clambered up a tree to see what she could find. Her thin long sleeved top did little to protect her against the rough bark of the tree, but she managed to pull herself up to the highest branch and poke her head out of the highest foliage. What she was faced with nearly knocked her out of her branch in shock.

She was enclosed.

Four large grey stone walls trapped the large green area, marked only by a door in the centre of each one. They were open at the moment, revealing nothing but more stone, and they were also taller than the tree she had happened to find. She cursed in her head as she looked around with wild eyes, trying to see if there was any other way out. Her eyes flitted towards the sky, trying to see if there was any form of life above it, and it took her a brief second to spot a slight shimmering where the sun was placed. She frowned, trying to look at it from another angle with her head tilted until she realized that the image was skewed; there was some kind of material placed between them and the sky, and when she looked around at the clouds as well it was obvious that everything was off. She was trapped. The vines that encased the walls didn't quite reach the top, and it didn't look like there were many tall structures besides a watch tower that the boys were obviously building taller. She briefly pondered going back to the group, but wasn't certain that they were going to protect her and didn't know if they had anything to do with the people who had sent her here in the first place. Whoever had had also wiped her memory, and done a fantastic job at it. She couldn't remember anything; her face, her voice, her hair – it was all gone. She was afraid of opening her mouth to speak and only had the courage to raise a hand to her face to assess what it felt like or possibly looked like. She felt three scars there, the first running from her right temple down to the bottom of her right cheek, the second running diagonally from above her right eyebrow through the bridge of her nose and down to her left cheek, and the third running from her left eye down to her left cheek. She almost blanched in horror, wondering what could have happened to her and why. The scars were not tender, but it as clear that nerve damage was present as it was difficult to feel anything underneath the puffy skin. The scars themselves were not too thick, but clearly present enough that a boy had been able to spot and comment on them through the metal of the cage earlier.

She lowered her hand in disgust, nearly cursing at the sky and wondering who it was that had placed her in this position. Why couldn't she remember? She willed her brain to push itself for memories, prodded and searched every corner of her mind she could access for some kind of information, but came up with none. It was as if someone had removed a part of her and made her a blank slate again. She felt like a raw nerve; too exposed and too susceptible without her memory. Knowledge and information was power – that much she remembered. Her thoughts were interrupted when the grumbling of her stomach distracted her, but her attention was soon grabbed by something else. Footsteps were approaching, and not far away either. She could hear the crunching of leaves and voices in the distance growing closer by the second. She quickly descended from the highest branch after casting one last glance at the stony walls and deciding that if these boys turned out to be anything bad, she would take her chances with the only industrial structure in this madhouse.

She found a perch that was shielded enough from the view of the approaching boys, but open enough so that she could peak out behind the foliage to catch glimpses of what they look like. She was curious about her receivers and wanted to learn what they knew, but recognized the risk.

"I can't bloody believe it," The same British accent from earlier greeted her eyes once more. "The only girl we've gotten, and we shucking lose her. She could be anywhere."

The girl scrunched her nose up in confusion at their terminology, trying to decipher what the strange words in the sentence were. She stayed crouched in her tree, still as could be and even going so far as to quiet her breathing.

"You boys said she was fast though, eh?" A deeper voice followed. "Faster than any of you? Think she could join the runners?"

"It wouldn't hurt – better than punishing her by making her a builder," The British boy agreed. "Although we sort of need her present for that to be possible."

 _Runners? Builders?_

The girl shook her head again, growing more and more confused about their terminology and just wanting to stay in her protected tree until something made sense. She knew she needed to eat, and considering the fact that she had been shipped up to this glorified holding pen alongside animals in crates, it was fair to assume that someone was giving them supplies since there were none in the area. This meant hunting was out of the option, and her only other choice was stealing. She had briefly spotted some crops that the boys had been farming, and wondered where they kept their harvests; the creators responsible for this mess could not have been stupid enough to refuse to send up seeds, so she assumed that they grew their own food. She promised herself she would venture out of her tree during nightfall to creep through the village and try to find nourishment, even as risky as it was. Once again, however, she was distracted from her planning by the voices that were now closer than ever.

"Gally's pissed beyond belief," The British boy laughed a bit at the mention of what the girl assumed to be the upset boy she had reflexively hurt, and she found the noise warming to her ears. It was the first time she had heard someone show a bit of lightheartedness since the horrid cage, and this helped her emotional state greatly.

It was then, peeking out of the leaves, that she managed to get her first good glimpse of her two suspects. The first boy was large and intimidating, muscles evident in his shirt and his stance dominant as he stalked through the forest next to his companion. Said companion was rather tall and lanky, although not lacking in the muscle department and showed off a soft face with tamed blond locks. He had a slight limp to his walk, suggesting a previous injury that was rather serious. The girl narrowed her eyes at the blonde boy, figuring that he was the one who had questioned her arrival first and mentioned the 'they' who had sent her up here. He had also mentioned that 'this wasn't supposed to happen', suggesting that they usually had a routine that they followed – or that the makers of this enclosure followed, rather – and that her arrival was very strange. This inference was validated by the shock of the rest of the group as well, confirming her suspicions that these people had been here for quite awhile and had a significant amount of information. However, they were still a threat, and she still hadn't convinced herself that it was time to come out.

"Of course he is," The larger boy snorted as the two stepped over a fallen log. "He's pissed over what he can't control. And from what it looks like, she seems fairly difficult to contain already."

"Do you think she could have gone into the maze?" The British boy stopped walking, clearly concerned.

"It's possible," His larger African-American counterpart shrugged, huffing anxiously. "At this point, all we can do is keep looking and keep everyone calm."

The boys continued on, oblivious to the grey pair of eyes that didn't leave their figures until they had disappeared into more foliage. It was then that she moved again, climbing high into the previous perch she had been on. She took another look around the green enclosure, trying to spot any other entryway. It was nearly useless thinking that there was any way to escape easily, considering the fact that the boys had implemented their own society within the grounds and looked as though they were going to stay for awhile. Suddenly, two boys came running out of the stone walls from the farthest entrance facing her. The girl frowned, wondering if they had come from whatever area was beyond those walls, and briefly felt a strong yearning to venture there herself. She did, however, acknowledge that she was hungry and needed nourishment, which was the sole factor in making her stay put for the next several hours as she watched the boys from a long distance. They gathered together, questioning the boys who had run out of the stone walls and then assuming their tasks of what seemed to be farming, gathering and building. The boys didn't seem too surprised to see the two venturers, meaning that they were either familiar with people on the outside of this structure or they were coming back for a reason. The solitary girl searched for other women, but gave up when she realized the community contained no traces of one and had established a strong life here without them. She continued observing until the sun began to fall, but was nearly startled out of her tree again when a large rumble made her heart leap.

It was the doors, and they were closing.

Her heart almost stopped, thinking that this was a first occurrence, but upon looking around at the boy's reactions she noticed that barely any of them had stopped doing their tasks to look up at the walls. She could only assume this happened frequently, but she didn't know how often. She continued to observe the doors closing and watched them wistfully until they shut, reminding herself that there had to be a way out. There always was. Her gaze did not tear itself away from the stone walls until her stomach grumbled, but she was too anxious to steal without knowing the layout of the grounds beforehand. Her perch allowed her to see just enough of the village to make out which buildings belonged to which jobs, and she could make out a small group of boys collecting sacks from the ground and carrying them into what looked like a large wooden hut. After two trips each carrying large sacks full of what she assumed to be food, they shut the door and made their way over to an area that she couldn't see. Another group of boys gathered packs and equipment that had been scattered around the village before leaving them in a smaller building closer to her location, then did the same as the gatherers and disappeared out of her sight. She could hear sounds and see lights in the distance as the sky grew darker and darker, but could not make out what was going on. The girl sighed, glancing around the enclosure one last time before deducing that this was their daily routine and that she would wait until tomorrow at dusk to hatch her plan. She could grab any useful equipment they had as well as food and water before making it into the walls before they closed. She wasn't sure what else lay out there, but was willing to take her chances instead of being trapped.

It took another long day of observation, hiding from the boys who had been sent to look for her and exhaustion fueled by little sleep, but the girl found her energy still fairly high and managed to stay awake fairly easily as the night approached. The doors to the walls had reopened, providing her with renewed hope and vigor for her plan. She jumped down from her tree just as she knew the sun was about to fall, but aware that daylight was still prominent. She had chosen the best route she had mapped during the day, deciding that she could make her way around the eastern brush until she reached the area behind the hut containing supplies and figuring that she would strike that building first to try and find a bag of sorts. She quickly put her plan to action, crouching behind the hut and waiting until any boys near the area were clear before creeping into the man-made structure. Surprisingly enough, a large amount of packs lay strewn on the ground and she quickly grabbed one before darting out once more. It was almost too easy; the foliage covered her once again as she repeated the process to get to the food hut, and she avoiding any wandering eyes of the boys by staying low and moving fast. Inside the food hut she found multiple vegetables and fruits, leading her to deduce that the meats from the animals that had arrived with her – whom they had most likely killed – were kept elsewhere. The society was more formulated than she had assumed, but she did not dwell on her thoughts and stuffed what she could find plus a water bag before moving out of the hut once more. Then, finding that she was closest to the North entrance of the green enclosure, she crept her way towards the doors and waited for the original two runners to exit.

It took them about an hour to appear, at which point dusk was beginning to fall and the girl was beginning to fear her plan wasn't going to work, but finally the two boys burst out of the stone walls and headed towards their village. She tossed the apple core she had been munching on into the foliage that had shrouded her thus far, preparing to rise and run. The two boys ran towards the center of camp without slowing their pace, and she waited until the group's attention was on them before picking up a dead sprint towards the doors. She was certain that the industrial walls were the way out; there was no doubt about it, and she was determined to find answers.

"HEY!" Suddenly there was a shout from nearby, and the girl panicked as she realized that they must have spotted her. Still, she ran on, convinced that she was going to make it to those doors before they closed as she had seen them do yesterday. There had to be something else to this puzzle – it was infuriating enough that she couldn't remember who she was, but it was even worse that the world she had been transferred into only held more questions. These thoughts fueled her, and her legs pumped faster.

"It's her!" Another boy confirmed, and by now she could hear the ruckus of the group running behind her from afar. "The she-bean's alive!"

"Go go go!" There were more voices as she tore through the rest of their village, dodging what seemed to be ropes thrown her way in an attempt to scramble her. "Before she gets to the doors!"

"They're closing! Minho – faster!"

She wasn't sure who Minho was, but refused to look back and calculated that there were roughly a hundred meters between her and the doors now. The boys were crying out at her, warning her to stop and pleading for her to slow down, but she refused to relent and plummeted towards the only hope she had of escape.

 _100 meters..._

 _90 meters..._

 _80 meters..._

She calculated the remaining distances in her head every seven seconds, hoping that she could outrun the boys and feeling her stomach plummet as the noise of the maze doors closing could be heard. She pushed herself as hard as she could, letting out a grunt as her speed increased and the distance between her and the walls decreased. The groaning of the doors and shouts of the boys was overwhelming now, the noises blending together in her ears as she made the final stretch between her and the walls. She wasn't sure how far ahead she was of everyone, but she was small enough to squeeze into the small space that the maze allowed and stop herself on the other side. At this point, whoever made it in with her would be closed in for the night alongside her, and she willingly accepted them to join her. She barely made it in time to whip around and stare at the thirty-something faces looking back at her in horror before the stone doors closed with a final thundering creak.

 **Hope you enjoyed the first chapter - I am still writing so I cannot promise how soon I will update, however I will try to keep it consistent.**


	2. But The Tigers Come At Night

**But The Tigers Come At Night**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.** **  
**

As soon as the doors shut the girl was shrouded in darkness, only accompanied by moonlight and sounds of nature despite the industrial setting. She quickly turned on her heel and began running again, assessing her surroundings and quickly realizing that getting out would not be as simple as she had imagined. The walls were never ending and constant groans and creaks gave it away that they were shifting, so it took her a very short time to realize that the enclosure she was in was something she wasn't sure she could make it out of. She was in a maze, and the maze was alive. She could hear birds and bugs and see vines, but no other signs of life greeted her at the moment. The small girl was not fooled by this, however, and acknowledged that many things could hide in the shadows. Her large grey eyes scanned the walls of the maze as she continued running at an average pace, debating whether or not to climb the vines on the wall and get to higher ground. From there she could scan her route back to the entry way, in case her plan went wrong and there was need to go back to the green enclosure. Of course now that all the boys knew she was gone it would be difficult to get back into that place, but she was certain that if it came to it she would be able to do it to survive.

Suddenly, there was a movement to her right, and the girl stopped and turned faster than she had known possible. As if something out of her pure imagination had crawled out of her brain and splattered itself onto the maze wall, the girl spotted a large bug about 10 inches in length and 3 inches in diameter. The worst thing about it was not its 12 legs or the bright red logo smeared across it's back that read 'WCKD' like the barrels she had come up with in the cage, but the glowing red eyes that seemed to peer right into her soul. The bug stared at her for several more seconds before skittering away into a crevice, but the girl could still spot the ominous eyes looking at her. She quickly turned on her heel and ran, a bad feeling in her stomach developing after realizing what the bug could possibly do. She wasn't sure if it was a camera device or a tracking device, but it could not mean anything good. Her footsteps echoed in the maze as she continued running and she tried to find the lowest hanging vine to grab onto. From there, she could climb her way to the upper levels to try and piece out which direction she needed to head in. Unfortunately, when she completed said task and successfully climbed her way up to the top, she found that the direction was completely scattered.

It was quite literally a maze.

Blocks just like the one she was standing atop of made up the 'upper level' of the puzzle, scattering for what seemed to be miles. It was difficult to see if there was an end point, considering parts of the maze kept shifting around and groaning in their wake. The girl's shoulders fell slightly, but then her chest puffed once more and she refused to give up. There had to be a way out; she could feel it. There had to be – and she could not lose faith in the moment she most needed it. This motivation allowed her to keep moving as she jumped from block to block, landing solid on her feet and mapping out which way was North, South, East and West. At this point she knew she was heading South and that the green enclosure was North, but she wasn't sure which way the certain exit was. She took her chances in the direction she was going, fairly satisfied with the progress she was making until an unfamiliar whine greeted her ears. She stopped her movements, confusion marring her features as she tried to listen to the peculiar sound. Whirring and clicking sounds filled the night sky as well, causing her heart rate to increase as she realized that there was something else in the darkness with her.

A large roar made the tiny girl jump a foot in the air and sent her running off before she could see whatever creature was near her. She wasn't sure where it was, but the noise had been extremely close and she wasn't going to take any chances. She continued jumping, adrenaline boosting her energy as she tried to put distance between her and whatever awful monstrosity was clinking away behind her. It sounded as though it had multiple legs, and it's rumbling noises made it seem more machine than human. All of this mechanical nonsense made no sense to her, however she was adapting to the idea that perhaps this primitive world that she had been placed in was not so primitive after all. Especially now after having encountered one of these monsters, it was no wonder that the boys running out of the maze had come back to the green enclosure. The doors were protecting them from these creatures. She wasn't sure if they were always active, but shook her head as she hoped that this was the last encounter she would have with one of them.

Said creature let out more whines and clicks behind her, and she quickly saw that the blocks she was standing on were getting closer and closer to the ground. It was a trap to get her back down on the lower level of the maze, she realized with a curse, and she was damned if she didn't believe whoever had put her here was the culprit. She was beginning to think this was some sort of sick assessment of everyone's abilities; sort of survival of the fittest, if that was the appropriate wording to use. Either way, the girl didn't like it, and the anger fueled her to run a bit faster. Unfortunately this was not going to be enough to grant an escape from the monster's clutches, as she quickly deduced. She could feel it growing closer and closer with every growl, and she was beginning to lose ground. So, she made what was possibly the stupidest decision of her short lived life in the cruel world she had been brought into, and jumped for a vine. The impact almost dislocated her shoulder, and she let out a shrill cry of pain, but she managed to swing down to the lower level just in time to put enough distance between her and the creature that was very close to impacting her with one of it's appendages.

There was another groan of the maze as it shifted and provided her with a small passage to get through, but the creature was on her heels in no time. She lost it for a brief second as she turned several corners, and then let out a horrified cry as it appeared right in front of her seconds later. The mechanical monster was bulbous, containing many appendages that included spikes, shears and all sorts of other machinery that the girl couldn't identify. It was truly a monstrosity with it's horrid spiked teeth and slit eyes, screeching at her as if she was some kind of intruder in it's world. The girl's heart rate spiked, and she immediately tried to devise a plan to rid herself of the insect-like creature. It's many legs only gave it more speed as it chased her through the maze, screeching more and more as it grew frustrated at her speed. She tore through passage after passage, refusing to let her speed wane and finding that her fitness kept up with the job she needed it to do. At this point she expected that she would collapse from exhaustion, but strangely enough her body continued to work three hundred percent to support her physical needs for the situation.

Suddenly, an opportunity presented itself that the girl knew she had to take; a panel was closing shut just in time for her to make it through, but the creature would certainly be trapped if it tried to follow. She wasn't sure what would happen to it, but cried out in fear as she neared the closing panel and feared for her life as she barreled through it. What happened next would change her perspective of the maze for the rest of her time in and around it. The creature let out a final whine as it was squished, but the girl didn't get to watch it take it's last mechanical steps. Instead, she was struggling to stand as she clutched the wound that had been recently given to her by one of the creature's reaching sharp appendages. It had made a final reach during it's dying moments, and managed to slice her side deep enough to seriously disable her. She turned slowly, fearing the worst, but blanched as she saw the crushed body of the terrible being. It was most definitely dead; there was discolored slime everywhere and crushed mechanical parts that still whirred and beeped occasionally. It was a sickening sight to see, and the girl found herself nauseated not only because of the sight but because of the cut that was beginning to bleed rather profusely. She grunted, taking off her pack gingerly and trying to find if any medical supplies were stocked in it. Thankfully she was in luck and managed to find several bandages, which she wasted no time applying and quickly sought refuge in small tidbits of foliage that were scattered around the maze. She was certain that there were more creatures just like the one she had killed, and took the spare quiet time to feed herself and make sure she stayed hydrated. She spent the next several hours cowering in fear as sounds of several of the terrifying creatures haunted her ears, and tried to stay as still as possible. She thought back to the green enclosure, which was peaceful in comparison to this, and found herself with a new found respect for the citizens of it's walls. They most likely knew about all this, having been so terrified about her being left inside the maze alone, and she had run into it like a...

She couldn't remember the word.

She nearly cursed in frustration, the anger bubbling up inside of her at the thought of the fact that she couldn't even remember her own name and bits of expressive vocabulary. She vowed to find out who had done this, and punish them accordingly. She couldn't see a point of a test like this; it was inhumane and cruel, and even though she couldn't remember what kind of world she had come from beforehand she knew that whatever kind of person had a soul twisted enough to do such a thing deserved to be punished just the same.

 _An eye for an eye leaves everyone blind._

She jerked as her first memory flowed through her. The quote hadn't come from anywhere besides her brain, she realized, but she couldn't place her finger on who had said it or why. It was a saying, she knew that much, and could remember basic enough themes in the English language to figure out why it had come to her when she had spoken about punishing her captors equally. She sighed quietly again as she realized that it would be wrong and unfair to put her captors through the equal treatment that she and all of these boys had gone through. They would get what was coming to them – but that was not up to her to deliver. Instead, she needed to focus her efforts on these boys in the green enclosure and find a way out. Now, she realized why the boys running in the maze continued to go back to the green place. They had been mapping the structure out – trying to figure out enough information and routes for the entire group to get through safely – and she wanted to help. Thankfully, however, this moment proved to be opportune for exploring, as dawn was approaching and the sounds of the creatures was fading away. She remembered the doors closing, and remembered deducing that the reason for that was because the creatures only came out at night. The walls were protecting the green place.

She came out of her hiding spot shakily, grunting as she realized she could no longer run. The pain was too much and came too sudden, causing her body to give a wrack and a shudder. She stumbled forward again and didn't realize what she had stumbled upon until she looked up from where her eyes were trained on the stone floor. The array of stone panels sitting still in front of her seemed to planned out to be coincidental, and she recognized that perhaps this was a secondary area that the boys had not found yet. The large stone slates looked like blinds on a window – something that she couldn't believe she remembered. She knew that she had to go back and inform the boys – it didn't matter if she barely remembered the twists and turns that she took to go back; she had to let them know what she had seen. They were trapped in the green place, as utopic as it was, and she needed to help them. So. very ungracefully and gasping in pain the whole way, she trudged her way back to where she had originally come from at dusk. By now the blood had seeped through her makeshift bandages and had decorated her hands, coating them in the warm wet substance.

Yet, she pressed on, determined to get back to the green enclosure and growing more positive as she recognized a passage from several hours ago. She barred her teeth and continued, trying to listen for sounds of shouts or the opening of the doors. It was almost light, the doors would have to be open when she got there although she wasn't sure what the boy's reaction would be. She wasn't sure she cared at this point; all she wanted to do was tell them what she knew and perhaps have some of her own questions answered – she recognized now that they were against a common enemy and it was worth it to go back to try to sort some things out. It wasn't unlikely that the boys already knew about the panels, but she figured that going back was most definitely the better idea instead of spending another night in the maze. Luckily enough for her, she had memorized enough of the route to find her way back to the doors and around the next corner, she was greeted with the sight of the large doors strewn wide open and the crowd of expectant boys gaping at her form.

"No way!" One of them cried, followed by a stunned silence of the crowd awaiting at the doors. The girl stumbled towards the original entrance she had exited out of, one hundred percent alive and clearly regretting her decision from the previous night. She held her injured side tenderly, trying to mentally erase the stinging that it let off. She grew closer and closer to the group until she finally closed the distance, still leaning against the wall of the maze for support. After the traumatizing night and the walk back her energy levels were extremely low, not to mention the amount of blood she had lost was incredibly high. She was fading fast, and it was visible. None of the boys moved to help her until she had taken the first step back into the green place, at which point the British boy she had been watching from the tree yesterday quickly moved forward to help her struggling form. Another oriental boy she didn't recognize was at her side in seconds, wrapping an arm around her waist to support her. She gasped in pain as they kept her tiny form upright, accidentally shifting the bandages on her injury. This triggered a memory, a memory which occurred to her in the moments right before her vision began to tunnel.

"Inka," She managed to gasp out, shocking herself with the British accent that tumbled from her lips before she finally saw the darkness tunneling her vision. "My name is Inka."

* * *

She hadn't known what to expect when she woke up – at the very least Inka had assumed she would have been tied up – but it seemed as though the boys had taken pity on her situation and shown her mercy, because she was now in what seemed to be a wooden medic hut with two concerned boys looking over her. She frowned up at the two, suspicious as to why they were silent. One of them smirked slightly, and then gave her a small wave.

"Afternoon'," He greeted, his tone light and airy despite the situation. "I'm Jeff, this is Clint – we're the Glade's med-jacks."

She said nothing to this, assuming that the 'Glade' was their terminology for the green place and that 'med-jacks' was some weird way of saying 'medic'. Either way, she was grateful for their help. She no longer felt the pain in her side, and assumed that they had advanced enough training to know how to deal with injuries as bad as hers had been. Then again they had most likely seen much worse in their time here, especially with those creatures running around in the maze. She shuddered at the memory of the gruesome being she had encountered mere hours ago.

"You were sliced by a Griever after you ran into the shucking maze," Clint, the other med-jack, spoke up. "But we stitched you up just fine."

Inka merely scrunched her nose up at the next confusing word, managing to successfully deduce that the creature she hadn't had a name for had already been dubbed a 'Griever' by this community. She tried to store the name in her head later as she knew that it would come in handy when communicating her story, but for now focused on the task at hand – she needed to speak with the leader of these boys. She needed to explain what was going on and quite possibly get some answers for herself as well.

"Who's in charge here?" She was almost frightened to hear her own voice, but found that it flowed out of her mouth like water. The British accent greeted her ears once more, reminding her of her nationality although failing to provide her with any memory.

"Straight to the point then, I see," Jeff smirked, motioning for Clint to take off. "Alby told us to tell him when you woke up anyhow."

Inka could only assume Alby was the leader. She quickly moved to get up, which Jeff protested greatly, but upon reminding him that she had been starved of food for a good half a day he quickly handed her some toast that had been set aside. She grimaced in pain when the stitches in her side moved, but still reached for the food.

"You can thank Frypan for that," Jeff watched her eat, finding himself looking over her underweight figure and wondering what had happened to her before she had been sent up in her box. She looked at him in confusion and he smirked slightly before answering. "Frypan is our cook."

Inka nodded, almost smirking at the odd name. Whilst eating, she took the spare time to look around and try to learn her surroundings. She assumed they didn't receive too many medical supplies based on the objects she saw strewn about, and also because the suspicious smelly jar of liquid sat by her bed was most definitely not from WCKD. The company name was another question she had for the leader, as she found the name familiar but was unsure why. No one else was in the med-jack hut, but she could spot several cots and supplies stacked into the far corner. Each cot was equipped with cloth restraints, something which made her shiver for a reason she was not certain about.

"You know what's curious," Jeff mused as she gulped down the glass of water he offered her. "Newt's the only other person in the entire Glade with a British accent."

Inka said nothing, but stored the information at the back of her head. Newt must have been the other British boy – the handsome blonde one she had spotted from her tree with a slight limp who had also helped her when she made her way out of the maze. After having found herself without memory, she was glad to fill the hard drive that was her brain up once more and wondered if their matching accents meant anything or were chalked up to pure coincidence. Either way she was going to get answers, and apparently they were going to be from the man who she had been spying on a day prior. The broad African-American boy walked through the small door of the hut, followed by Clint, then the oriental boy who had helped her, and then the British one. The visitors all together made her heart rate increase with anxiety, slightly overwhelmed by all the pairs of eyes on her. She gulped loudly as they came closer to her bed, eyes growing wide in fear. The British boy seemed to gaze at her a bit softer than the others, who clearly wanted answers from her and hadn't spoken a word yet. The largest boy in the room was the first to break that silence.

"I'm Alby," He introduced himself, jutting his chin out towards the only girl he had seen since he had arrived in the Glade years ago. "You're Inka – correct?"

She nodded once, eyes trying to train on all of them at once.

"This is Minho," He nodded towards the oriental boy before introducing the British one. "And Newt."

Inka nodded towards the both of them – slightly in thanks and partly in politeness – before focusing her attention back on Alby.

"Do you remember anything? Names, faces, words – anything before you came up in that box?" He continued, narrowing his eyes and refusing to uncross his arms. She frowned and wracked her mind for answers before replying.

"'An eye for an eye leaves everyone blind'," She repeated what her flashback had told her, not missing the strange glance of recognition on Newt's face as she spoke the phrase before it disappeared. "I can't remember who said it – why can't I remember anything?"

"It's normal," Newt cut in, noticing her panic and desiring her eyes to stay trained on him for a reason he couldn't name. "Don't worry – we all lost our memories. Our names are usually the only thing they let us keep."

"And what about your face?" Alby fired the next question almost instantaneously. Inka only shrugged her shoulders at this, almost having forgotten about the scars marring her skin. The four sets of eyes in the room looked over the marks on her face, each holding questions they knew she couldn't answer.

"When you were in the maze," Minho butted in, eager to get answers about the vast stone walls and continuing when Alby didn't stop him. "What did you find?"

"A giant bug – Griever, I mean," She grimaced and corrected her terminology as she glanced at Jeff, remembering the horrific monstrosity that she had murdered in the maze. "It ran after me for ten, twenty minutes maybe before it died."

"You _saw_ a Griever?" Minho nearly fell over. "What do you mean you _saw_ a Griever?"

"No one has seen a Griever and lived," Newt cut in, taking one step towards Inka before she could answer. "What did it look like?"

"Big...slimy," She shuddered, shaking her head at the memory. "It sort of rolled and ran at the same time with a whole lot of legs and spiky things coming out of it. It tried to sting me with one of it's... _things_ before it died."

"Died? How?" Minho frowned, eyes piercing Inka's suspiciously.

"I killed it?" The room went silent, and Inka had no idea what was making the boys so tense until Minho clarified with a double take.

"You – you killed it?" He seemed shell-shocked at this fact. "How did you kill it?"

"Well, not really _killed_. I ran," She answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and then backtracked upon realization that her answer had not been formulated correctly. "I mean – I ran in between the moving walls. They squished it like it was nothing."

"And?" Minho was still gaping, along with Newt who watched her hands avidly as she pressed them together to imitate the walls.

"And..." She trailed off, not knowing what he was implying but going along with it anyway. "It sliced me – I hid until their noises stopped and then came back to help you."

Minho sighed quietly, looking at Alby reproachfully before turning back to her.

"No one's ever survived a night in the maze before," This comment shocked her, as she had expected at least one of these very fit men surrounding her to be able to withstand more than she could. They were all broad and strong, and clearly worked hard in their individual roles in the society they had built for themselves. At least one of them had to be strong enough to withstand what she did, no? "And no one has ever killed a Griever."

"No she-bean has ever showed up," Jeff chipped his two cents in, organizing supplies in the corner.

"And no one's gone straight into the maze on their second day," Alby finished. "Listen – what you did was stupid and you're lucky you made it out alive, but you got us some information that we need to know. Can you tell us anything else you can remember?"

"There was a bug," Inka added, lifting a finger up in remembrance and trying to mimic the creature with her hands, causing Newt to smile slightly. "A big one – with red eyes. It said WCKD on it's back in bright red ink."

"We've seen those," He vouched for her, confirming her suspicions that she was not insane and had perhaps imagined the whole thing. "We don't touch them – they tell the Grievers where the runners are and we're pretty sure it's how whoever put us here watches us. What else did you find?"

"Panels," She shook her head, trying to remember and clear her brain. All of the new information and traumatic events had taken a toll on her mind. "Lots of panels, almost like blinds on a window. I can't remember the route, and I didn't go any further than that."

Minho said nothing at this, merely frowning when he realized that he or any other runner had gotten that far. This meant that besides the shifting walls there was another trial for the runners – there had to be something on the other side of that maze and he would be damned if he didn't find out what it was. Alby looked towards him with a strange glance, then motioned towards the door as to command that he wanted to speak with the boys privately. They began to thank Inka and bid her farewell, but the girl was quick to stop them.

"Wait!" She yelped as they were about to exit, making a move to rise from her bed but grunting in pain when her stitches rebelled. Clint made a move to help her, but she swished a hand in efforts to dismiss him. "Stop."

The boys did as they were told, respecting her demands and willing to hear what she had to say.

"What is WCKD?" She pronounced what she assumed to be the company name as 'wicked', although she had no idea how it should have been pronounced, what it stood for or if they truly were an negative corporation.

The boys looked between each other with frowns, as if she had asked some sort of risky question. Alby quickly explained that they didn't know much, only that WCKD were the ones designing the bugs and the ones delivering food supplies to them, meaning that it was difficult to distinguish if they were good or bad. They also didn't know what it stood for, frustrating Inka even further at the lack of information. The only person who seemed to sense her anger was Newt, who's mouth twitched at the sight of her wringing her hands. She had the same frustration in her that all the new boys did when they arrived, aside from a select few who stayed in shock for a week and had trouble adapting to life in the Glade.

"Does anyone else remember anything?" Her gaze was hopeful, staring at all of them with her wide eyes that Newt would have hated to let down. Still, he shook his head. He didn't want to deny her of the truth, no matter how upsetting it was.

"No one does love," His words caused her eyes to flit to his, making him quiver slightly under her piercing gaze. "That's what we're all trying to do – remember."

She didn't speak for a long while after that, simply staring down at her hands and frowning. If there had been any doubt in her mind that she was safe here, it was gone by now. Although the group of boys didn't know where or why they had been placed in the Glade, they were still a group and they all had the same questions. Each and every one of them were struggling just as much as the other and had just as many inquiries as the next as to why their memories had been wiped and why their lives had been changed. Inka, as Newt recognized, wanted to understand just as badly as everyone else.

"When you're healed enough we'll show you around the Glade," Alby interrupted the string of silence and took his leave, nodding one final time towards the sole woman in the Glade. Minho, however, stayed rooted in his spot and refused to move.

"Minho?" Newt glanced back and forth between the she-bean and his friend, frowning slightly. It seemed as though he was still in shock after having discovered that this tiny girl was the source of their first dead Griever in all the years they had inhabited the Glade, and refused to budge from his spot. "Come on, let's go."

"Wait," The oriental boy instructed, snapping out of his trance and approaching Inka cautiously. "Why did you run towards the maze? Why didn't you stay and find out who we were?"

The girl frowned for a moment, seemingly trying to come up with a good answer, before responding, "Because the maze is the way out."

"You don't know that," Minho combated immediately, shaking his head in frustration and clenching his fists. "There's no way to prove that. Why would you think that way?"

"It has to be," She shook her head, making a face as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Newt found himself moved by her passion and unbreakable trust in the maze, as the lack of faith had been his demon not long ago. He had been consumed by the mindset that he would be trapped in the Glade forever, and had lost hope which had led him to make choices that he was deeply regretting at the moment. This girl renewed the vigor inside of him that pushed him to become a runner in the first place; the possibility that an escape was out there somewhere along those walls and the possibility of discovering answers that had been lost in a part of their brain a long time ago. "There's always a way out...it has to be it."

Something in Minho changed at her answer, and his face lost any emotion as he resumed his blank slate expression. He assessed Inka coldly for a moment, eyes darting from her face to her short messy locks and back down to her small body before they settled on her grey eyes once more. He seemed to reach a conclusion that the other three people in the room could not understand, and he took his leave without uttering one more word. Inka was confused at this, and met Newt's eyes in question.

"Sorry," The British boy apologized for his friend's brash actions. "He's quite high strung."

"What is this place?" She changed the subject, looking around and suddenly overwhelmed at the life they had constructed for themselves even though she had been observing it for two days. It was amazing to see it up close; they had obviously worked very hard to provide a good life for themselves in the Glade and she saw this.

"The Glade," Newt answered simply, not sure how else to describe it and too distracted by her facial features to say anything else. It was strange to see a girl after having your memory wiped of all faces you once knew, and he was fascinated by every inch of her. Even with the large marks on her face – which held an air of mystery that he was sure everyone else was curious about as well – she was beautiful.

"We all chip in here," Jeff butted in, deciding to answer her unasked questions. Both Newt and Inka jumped, as if they had forgotten his presence and he had just climbed out of a wall. Clint was there as well, still organizing supplies in the far corner of the hut, but no one had paid him any mind. "It's how it works."

"And?" The girl's thin eyebrows pulled themselves together again to frown in question.

"The tour is sort of Alby's job," Clint wavered on answering her question, glancing towards Newt to confirm the fact and then nodding towards him. "Although _he's_ second in command."

"You?" Inka focused her stern gaze upon Newt once more, relaxing a bit as she realized there was information stored behind those blonde locks of his. "You're number two?"

"Yes ma'am," He nodded, not moving from his position leaned against the wall. His arms stayed crossed as well - much like his superior's - but his face was kinder and his words were less sharp. Inka took a liking to him more than his larger counterpart, and found herself much more at ease with only him and the med-jacks around.

"Can you answer any...any bloody questions around here?" She sputtered, surprised at how naturally the words had flown from her throat. Newt seemed just as shocked to hear her utter the same curse that was specific to him only in the Glade, and barely managed to hide his shocked expression. Jeff, however, let out a short laugh towards what was obviously their vocal similarities.

"B-bloody?" The med-jack let out another chortle, trying – and failing – to hide his laughter behind his hand. "This is too precious. She's like a shucking copy of you Newt."

Inka's sharp, frustrated gaze flitted back and forth between the two boys – one of which who looked out of words and the other who looked as though he was enjoying the other's reaction – and she found herself suddenly overwhelmed. Here she was, asking for answers in what seemed to be a crisis situation, and the medical professional was laughing that their accents matched. It was frighteningly surreal more than anything, and her anger hit a peak. She cried out for attention, slamming her hands against the cot she sat against in hopes that his laughter would stop and that she could get some answers. Both boys tensed at her actions, springing into place to restrain her at the sound of her cries. For Newt, however, the last thing he wanted to do was tie her up and the first thing he wanted to do was revel in the smoothness of her skin.

"No, no!" She struggled against their holds, managing to elbow Jeff in the chin and get a hand free to shove against Newt's advances. "I just want answers!"

"Just calm down, alright?" Newt grunted as her hand was once again shoved unceremoniously in his face, and he realized that neither him nor Jeff could get a proper hold of her.

"I am calm!" She complained, glaring at both men as they backed off of her. "I am perfectly calm. Now tell me precisely how long you people have been here, how long you have been trying to get out, and what you have found so far."

Newt had to hand it to her, she was dedicated. It reminded him of the times when he was a runner, always striving for the next entry in his notebook and hopeful that somewhere around the next corner, a clue could be found indicating the way out. He had been so careful and meticulous with his work, making sure to map each difference from the maze as soon as he got back in the Glade each and every day. Then, when his 'accident' had occurred, Alby had deemed him mentally unfit and forbid him to ever step foot in the maze again. Newt had long since buried his demons, but this girl's arrival promptly renewed his vigor to learn all he could about the maze. He hadn't felt that way in a long time, and he had her to thank. Perhaps she could bring the trapped Gladers the hope they had been looking for all this time.

"Alright – listen," Newt held his hands up slightly, not wanting her to lose her cool again. "The longest anyone's been here is three years, and we've been looking since then. Minho is the one who knows the maze best, but you've got to be a runner if you want anything out of him."

"A runner?" She narrowed her eyes at the terminology, having heard it before but not understanding what it meant.

"Yeah," Newt nodded, noticing a slight gleam in her eyes as she processed the new information. "Runners – they map the maze out every day. They're the ones who are working on getting us out."

"There are other guys too," Jeff interrupted once again. "Builders, bricknicks, sloppers, baggers, cooks, track-hoes, slicers and obviously," He motioned to himself sarcastically. "med-jacks."

Inka shook her head, overwhelmed by all of the names and trying to latch on to at least one. Newt sensed her confusion, and quickly narrowed in on each one to make it simpler for her. He remembered his arrival in the Glade and how confused he had been, and took pity on Inka's situation more than any other one of the green-beans. It was the first time he had seen true initiative and desire to escape right off the bat in a new greenie. And surprisingly enough, it came in the form of this tiny raging she-bean who he couldn't take his eyes off of.

"Builders build things and the bricknicks fix what's broken around here," Newt forced the words out of his throat, hoping this was calming her down and serving as more of a distraction than anything. He also hoped that his tone came off as patient rather than patronizing, and that she understood what he was trying to describe. "The sloppers do the dirty work – cleaning and housework and all that, since they're not good at much else. The cooks cook, the med-jacks heal and the track-hoes farm."

"The slicers kill the animals," Clint added, scrunching his nose up as he thought of the nasty work the slaughterhouse contributors did. "And the baggers deal with any bodies."

"But the runners," Newt butted in again, noticing the flash of fear in Inka's eyes as Clint mentioned bodies. "The runners are the fastest and strongest of us all. They're out there all day trying to find a way out of here and memorizing the maze bit by bit."

"They've been doing that for three years," Inka deadpanned, eyes disbelieving and not failing to catch onto the glint that shone in Newt's pupils. "And they haven't found anything?"

"It's harder than it looks," Newt admitted, not wanting to admit to her what his previous job in the Glade had been. "And I don't know anything else."

"You're lying," She spat suddenly, gaze attacking as it searched his face for answers she knew he was hiding. He couldn't utter a reply however, once again shocked that she had managed to see through him, but was thankfully saved as Minho came in to collect him for their gathering. Jeff was told to stay behind and watch Inka, whilst Clint was recruited to go along with the two boys. Newt took one last glance at the girl before following the other Gladers, not being able to rid himself of the grey eyes that seemed to peer into his very soul. As soon as he stepped foot into the hut that held the gathering, however, the subject on his mind would come to light once more. Alby immediately announced the obvious fact that the she-bean was back and being nursed back to health, something that shifted the mood of the whole enclosure. Their leader then explained that they needed to find a way to deal with the predicament, as the box had never delivered a girl before and she clearly had a tendency to escape. Panic was common in greenies, but that sort of energy and ability to sprint as fast as she could as well as hide in a forest for two days and steal from the Glade was not.

"I say we punish her," Gally frowned as soon as there was a moment of silence for the Gladers to share their opinions. Although he had not been present in the med-jack hut, he based his prior experience with the girl and her sheer stupidity to head straight into the maze without even consulting the Glade members first to make an assessment of her. Newt felt himself shaking his head in anger and disappointment at the fact that Gally still hadn't learned that violence didn't solve everything.

"For what?" Minho spoke up, finding his anger soaring thanks to the ignorant boy's words. He had already irked by the fact that this strange girl had survived a night in the maze, but Gally's words pushed him over the edge. "Giving us valuable information? Surviving? She was only here for two days and already had the balls to run into the maze for a night – she didn't know any of the rules, you slinthead."

"She didn't know what was out there," Another Glader pointed out, slightly surprised by Minho's positivity and finding the courage to speak up. "And she came back."

"To help us," Minho added, looking around at all the boys now. "Listen, you might think she's jacked – but this is the first time anyone has killed a Griever, ever."

The silence in the air was heavy after the Keeper of the Runners uttered those words, and the tension was so thick one could cut it with a knife. Minho was right; she was valuable, and had been the first greenie in the box to ever run that fast or far. It was not often that the boys were fast enough to become runners – most became builders or used their talents elsewhere, such as cloth weaving or cleaning – so it came as a surprise to the entire Glade when the only girl they had ever seen come up in the box ran straight into the monster that was the maze.

"Forget that she's a girl – she's what we need right now," Minho continued. "We need answers, and she can help us. I say we make her a runner."

Newt had been quiet up to this point, relieved that his friends were sticking to the fair side of things and thinking of the grey eyed girl who was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He briefly wondered about her past and why the creators had chosen to send her up, out of all people. There had to be a reason for her arrival, and there had to be a connected reason as to why they were the only two to have British accents. Was this someone's way of trying to spell out a clue for them?

"She's practically got a death wish," Gally scoffed, interrupting Newt's thoughts and obviously still not buying it. He was still very heavily biased thanks to the bruise on his stomach, and was no closer to accepting the girl who had attacked him first thing upon jumping out of the box. "She's totally jacked and we can't trust her."

"She was just scared, Gally. You can't blame her for that. She wants answers just the same as any of us," Newt butted in, remembering why he had become a runner when he had first become part of the Glade and defending the new arrival. "She's brave, obviously smart enough to survive, and she's fast. And she's ready to go back in there. For us. To help us."

As much as he was reluctant to admit it, he agreed with Minho that Inka should become a runner. He didn't want her endangering herself – he almost wished his mental 'slip up' hadn't happened so that he could still be a runner and go with her, at the very least. But he knew these were unavailable options; options that he canceled out for himself long ago. He should have been strong, like Minho, and persevered instead of broken down because they hadn't happened to find answers for the hundredth and twentieth day in a row a year ago. He should have been strong and brave like Inka had proved herself to be, even in her first day of the Glade.

"Make her a runner," Alby decided after a short period of pondering and Gally glaring towards him. His decision only made the Keeper of the builders angrier. "Minho, start training her as soon as she's healed up properly."

The Keeper of the Runners gave a short, gruff nod in response to his leader's command, then disappeared from the hut. Newt wasn't sure what to do at that point; he wanted to go back to Inka and finish explaining to the girl what occurred in the Glade, but did not want to encroach on healing time and instead chose to take stock of what he had collected that day in the fields. The British boy had been keeping himself busy ever since he had helped Minho drag the she-bean back to the med-jack hut, finding that his anxiety over her condition only drove him more and more mad as the minutes went by. As a result, he had gathered more stock than any other track-hoes working in the field that day and was now staring at the largest pile of tomatoes he had ever seen since he rose up in the box years ago. Zart, the Keeper of the Gardens who somehow always smelt like spoiled milk, had only glanced at him strangely as he checked on his own rations and then disappeared out of the storage hut. Newt sighed, taking a tomato and flipping it in his hand before shaking his head in wonder at what an effect the girl had made on the Glade already. There was something very strong in his head that drew him towards her, although he couldn't identify it for the life of him and couldn't understand why.

* * *

It was two days later, and Newt still hadn't approached the med hut nor had he asked about Inka's condition. Neither Clint nor Jeff had emerged from the hut or asked for Alby, which was slightly concerning and more than enough to place the British boy under a fair bit of stress. He had taken to hoeing as much land as he could, furiously slaving away under the heat of the sun and muttering to himself about the sheer stupidity of the predicament he had been placed in. He often cursed at the creators, wondering what he and his fellow companions had all done to deserve being placed in this trap, before reminding himself that anger would only kill him in the end and he needed to stay calm to survive. It was now the afternoon, and Newt had immersed himself so deeply in his work that he barely realized it was only him in the fields. Inka and her state still played at the back of his mind, almost like a song that was stuck in his head that he couldn't get rid of.

"Newt?" The boy in question stopped working to face the voice calling his name. It was Winston, the Keeper of the Bloodhouse where the slicers did their dirty work, and he was looking rather concerned.

"What?" The British boy placed his hoe down rather roughly in frustration, letting it impale itself into the dirt.

"It's the she-bean," The other boy gulped, slightly out of breath. "She tried to run again."

"Again?!" Newt sprung into action, heading in the direction that Winston had arrived from. "Are we going to have to put a shucking leash on her?"

"She's angry – that's all I know," The Keeper of the slicers tried to explain as they ran along, headed towards the crowd of boys near the Eastern exit of the Glade. "Minho and Ben were coming out of the maze as she ran in – I think they tackled her but I'm not sure."

"Tackled?" Newt scrunched up his face and wondered if that was really necessary. Although he agreed that the girl had a lot of fight in her, two grown boys tackling her small frame to the ground seemed an unfair, unnecessary overkill.

The two boys quickly arrived at the scene where all the Gladers were gathering, finding that Alby was holding Inka in a very tight hold despite the sheer amount of force she was using to try and get away from him.

"You can't keep me in there!" She gasped, trying to claw at his eyes before he managed to grasp her hands. "You don't own me!"

"Listen," Alby grunted, grasping the girl by the cloth of her shirt and pulling her towards him. The action was violent and threatening, causing her to flinch and gasp in surprise. Newt reflexively took a step towards the pair, ready to attack Alby and bring him to the ground in whatever way possible, but then stopped as he realized that there had been no trigger for the reaction. It was as if he had acted without thought; just the same as when he heard the blaring of the alarm that signaled the box of supplies loaded up with the new greenie every month, or when he heard a cry for help. It was a reaction triggered by the need to protect, but he could not remember why or how it had been ingrained so deeply in his brain, especially since he had not felt this with any of the boys. He had been so ready to harm one of his own – a boy he had known for years and who had taken him under his wing only to make him second in command – to protect this tiny she-bean, who was currently struggling very hard against Alby's hold.

Newt could not pull out a reason for why he felt this way from his own head even if someone had been holding a machete to his neck.

"Listen!" Alby roared, causing Inka to finally stop struggling and simply focus on him with her big, grey eyes. The rest of the boys were quiet. "We have three rules here – first: everyone does their part. There are no slackers, and just because you're a girl doesn't mean you're an exception. Second: You never hurt another Glader; this system is built on trust and you already harmed that when you hit Gally and ran away."

The girl still stayed silent, not moving a muscle nor batting her eyes in question. It was as if she had been frozen in time even in the awkward position. She was so light Alby had no trouble keeping her slightly off of the ground as he lectured her, and even though Newt felt extreme discomfort watching her go through it, he knew that he would be in a lot more trouble if he intervened.

"Third," The leader of the Glade continued. "You never go outside the Glade unless you're a runner."

"Hear that, greenie?" Another Glader pointed out cheekily before Alby could finish, causing the leader frustration.

"Slim it slinthead," He growled towards the boy, who cowered in response. "Now listen green-bean – you didn't know any of this before today so I'll give you a break. But any more steps out of line and I'm throwing your ass in the slammer for as many days as I see fit."

Unfortunately, it seemed as though this warning would not deter the small girl. Without warning, Inka slipped a leg behind Alby's and pushed as hard as she could, making him to topple onto the ground and causing her to stumble back before crouching in a very predatory fashion before glaring at the leader. Alby rose silently, seemingly not bothered by the swipe at all, before lunging at her like a large tiger. The boys cleared and made a circle, watching as Inka dodged his attack and darted behind him like a small rat. This process repeated itself time after time, even when Alby tried to fake her out on several attempts. It seemed as though that while her strength was nowhere near as high as any of the boys, she was fast and agile enough to avoid attacks. Newt was extremely on edge, not liking the game that the two were playing and ready to interfere at a moments notice but unable to after several of Alby's glares were shot towards him. After several more attempts to snatch the she-bean, Alby stopped and realized that she was trying to tire him out. He motioned for Gally and Minho to collect her, sending her into a bit of a frenzy to try and get away from both boys at once. The rest of the crowd didn't move, simply stood by as Minho finally managed to grasp her shoulder and distract her enough so that Gally could take hold of her arms. Inka got in several headbutts and a couple kicks, but she soon gave up the struggle and accepted her fate, realizing that angering the boys any further would not do her any good.

"I'm not playing this game with you. Two days in the pit," Alby surprised the boys by the relatively low day-count he assigned Inka in their makeshift prison and his lack of frustration. He watched his fellow Gladers escort the she-bean away, narrowing his eyes slightly. "This one is definitely a runner."


	3. A Finding

**A Finding**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.**

In the first day of being in the slammer, Inka did nothing but sleep. Clint visited her several times, changing her bandages and giving her food and water, but other than the med-jack she was left alone. On the second day, however, Inka thought as hard as she could.

She wracked her brain for any memories besides the frustrating quote and her name, trying to decipher where they had come from and why she hadn't been given anything else to hold on to. The most infuriating fact out of it all was that she had a conscious memory of how to perform acts such as climbing a tree, but could not remember how she had been taught. It was as if someone had placed the ability to do so right in her very brain without giving her the foundational tools or knowledge that came along with the skill. Inka found herself trying to remember how she had learned to tie her shoes, and nearly cried out in frustration when she was able to repeat the process on her own boots a dozen times but could not pinpoint exactly how she had learned to do so.

"Are your shoes off?" A familiar British voice sent her heart racing, and she reflexively leapt against the far wall of the cage in fear thanks to the sudden shock. "Woah, easy – easy."

"Yes," She admitted reluctantly. "They're off."

"Why are they off?" Newt peered at her curiously through the makeshift bars of the slammer, frowning as he realized her hands were clenching and un-clenching in anger.

"Because I'm trying to remember how I know to tie them," She spit out reluctantly, making him realize yet again what kind of effect these creators had on their victims. Whoever had put them here – whoever had decided their fate to be this horrid life trapped amidst these stone walls – would pay in the end. So many of the greenies hadn't known what to do with their lack of information in the beginning; many would sit for days in a corner of the med-jack hut mumbling to themselves or crying as they tried in vain to remember anything. Most would only remember their name, but sometimes the odd greenbean would utter a phrase or two that was ingrained in their head.

"Try all you want love," The Glade's second in command sat down beside her cage with a sigh, regarding the frustrated girl with avid curiosity. "It's the same with all of us – we all know how to use an oven, climb a tree, use a rake – but we can't remember how. Our names are the only thing they let us keep."

Inka frowned, shaking her head slightly and making Newt falter in his speech. Something had flashed in her eyes – he wasn't sure if it was a memory of some sort or a word he had said that had triggered a specific thought, but she seemed forlorn for a moment. He quickly grasped her attention back when he began to talk about the large monthly bonfire they were planning on having in honor of the new arrival of the greenie. Inka's bonfire, of course, had been slightly delayed because of the nature of her arrival and the shock that overtook the glade when she had run for the maze after two days of hiding and being presumed dead. Newt was still both flabbergasted and inspired at the sheer amount of dedication and hope she held in her.

"Are they angry with me?" Inka's voice was timid this time around, surprising Newt and interrupting his speech about how wonderful their bonfires were.

"No," He found himself assuring her immediately, a frown stitching his eyebrows together. "Well, maybe Gally – he doesn't appreciate being trumped very much, but the rest of us – No. They're just shocked, really. We haven't seen a girl since our memories have been gone and we definitely haven't seen a greenie run for the maze doors that fast. We weren't expecting you to come back at all."

She was silent after that, still trying to process their strange hierarchical society and how it functioned. All of the boys seemed terrified of the maze, even though she knew it to be the only way out. It had to be – as unfair as it was and as cruel as it seemed, she could not lose faith that it was the way out. They could not be trapped – _would_ not be trapped in this utopic paradise she knew only held darkness inside of it.

"You can ask me questions y'know," Newt interrupted her thought process, only wanting to hear her voice again. "I won't bite."

"What do all the words mean?" She finally uttered, tying her shoes up one final time.

"What words?" He tilted his head towards her in question, smiling slightly. He had a faint inclination as to what she was questioning, but wanted to hear it come out of her lips instead of his. He took pleasure out of her confusion and the way that her facial features shaped themselves when she was trying to puzzle something out.

"'Greenbean', 'she-bean', 'shuck'," She stuttered examples, lips pouting when she couldn't figure out the roots behind the words. "All those."

"Well," Newt scrunched up his nose, trying to remember them all in his head. "Takes awhile to get used to, but 'greenbean' or 'greenie' means newbie – basically anyone new to the Glade. 'She-bean' is a new one for us, actually, since you're the only girl and we're a creative bunch."

"What about 'shuck'?" She asked innocently.

Newt laughed, the sound ringing clear across the small area that they were surrounded by and lifting Inka's spirits up by a little. "'Shuck' is the bad one – it's an expletive we use whenever we see fit. 'Shank' is the good one – that one means 'friend' if you don't know their name, and 'slinthead' is a bad one. Basically means 'stupid head', like if you've done something wrong."

He watched her nod along silently, and wondered just how many things she could store away in that brain of hers before she exploded with knowledge. Her eyes seemed to already hold galaxies of information, even if her memory had been wiped and she had been shoved into a cage to join the rest of the Gladers in this glorified holding pen. Newt assumed that the knowledge of the world was somewhere in the space between her ears; it just needed to be accessed the right way.

"What about 'jacked'?' She mumbled, tone slightly shy this time around. Newt quickly realized that it was because he had most likely overheard some of the boys referring to her mental state, and took pity on her once more.

"A bit wired in the head," He reluctantly admitted, trying to go easy on her. "Not crazy, just slightly unstable. A lot of greenies act jacked in their first couple months here – this load of klunk takes awhile to get used to."

"'Klunk'?"

"That one means crap," He shook his head. "Not our best word, but I suppose George is the one to thank for that."

"George?"

"Yeah, one of the originals here from three years ago," Newt explained, now frowning off into the distance with a sour look on his face. "Before we had order here Gladers were going into the maze left and right – we lost a lot of them in the first year trying to get out."

"It that why you're all so bloody hell bent on controlling me like a puppet?" Her tone was sarcastic and clipped once more, and the British boy found himself smirking a bit at her usage of _his_ word. The only word that had been specific to him and his accent at this point, and the word that he was now sharing with her.

"No love," He shook his head. "Just want to make you see things from a different perspective. Count your blessings – you're lucky Gally hasn't made a cowbell for you yet."

This caused her to snort in sarcasm, loosening the tension and allowing both youth to relax a little. This, however, was short lived as the reality of the situation smacked them both in the face when the sounds of the maze doors closing enveloped the Glade. Newt cleared his throat as they listened to the horrible groaning and creaking, trying to rid himself of the ghastly memories that came with those sounds. Inka seemed to be just as effected, sitting upright and attentive in her spot on the muddy floor with a very alarmed expression. Although she had spent several days hearing the noise in the distance, having it so close by reminded her of her second night in the Glade and just how loud those noises had been when the maze doors had been shutting in her face. Thankfully, the sounds stopped after ten more seconds, and the night sky was filled once more with distant creaking noises and strange buzzing sounds. Inka jerked as a bug, similar to the metallic insect she had seen in the maze, crawled into her cage. She quickly backed herself up into the far wall, trying to get away from the insect and it's piercing red eyes.

"Calm, calm," Newt tried to soothe as he trained his eyes on the bug as well. "They won't touch you – they just watch us."

"Watch?!" Inka spat, the desire to squish the horrid thing overwhelming. "Watch what?! Who is watching us?!"

"Whoever put us here," Newt didn't want to scare her or alarm her any further, but there was no other way to answer her direct question. "We call them the creators."

"The creators?" Inka's eyes snapped back to her British counterpart's, and suddenly her attention shifted away from the bug entirely. Her demeanor was more relaxed, and she actively tried to breathe deep breaths to force herself to calm down. "The creators – like WCKD?"

"Not sure," Newt shrugged, picking up on her demeanor. "None of us are. All we know is that box comes up every month with supplies and a new greenie inside. This month, that's you."

"And the fact that we're both British," Inka started, deciding to voice the topic that she had hidden at the back of her mind ever since Jeff had mentioned it. "Do you think that has anything to do with this?"

"To do with what?" Newt shifted uncomfortably, not eager to admit the fact that they were the only two with an accent in the Glade and that it could very well be connected to the past. He was not ready to deal with such big thoughts, even though he strived for the memories each and every day.

"How we got here," Inka pushed. "Why the creators chose us."

"It might," The Glade's second in command finally gave in, ripping up some grass at his feet. "But it won't do us any good if our memory is complete klunk. For all we know it could be random. For shuck's sake – _you_ were random, Inka."

Inka stayed quiet at this, accepting this fact but trying to find a way around it. She found that since arriving in the Glade, this had been her way of thinking – accepting what things were, and trying to find a way around them. There was no point in combating what was true, but there was method in the madness of trying to find a way around those truths. For example, it was true that there was a possibility that the maze was not the way out, but Inka needed to hold onto that hope with all her heart if she wanted to stay motivated and help these boys get out. Or as another example in light of recent events, Inka needed to accept the fact that there was a possibility that she would never remember what had happened to her, but if she got out of this maze alive, there could be a way to get around that. Answers would be provided in the future, and the solitary girl hoped that she was not the only person in the Glade to realize that they would need to push for them.

Things changed drastically when Inka was released from the jail the boys had constructed a mere year ago that evening. She was immediately sent back to the med-jack tent, where it was discovered her slice was healing at a fairly rapid rate despite the traumatic events that had occurred when she should have been resting, and Minho began explaining to her what exactly it was that the runners did when in the maze. She met several of the other boys on the job, including Ben, Dave, Elijah and Freddy, who all greeted her with wary 'hellos' and did not seem too eager to get to know her. Minho, however, upheld his absolute faith in the girl, and began to explain to her how the maze worked from the inside. He quickly pinpointed that the inner part of the maze rotated on schedule in a series of five different patterns, something that she would need to memorize quickly. As he explained it, the walls moved up, down, crushed or disappeared altogether to make new formations that the runners needed to know. These changes were displayed in the mini map of the maze that the runners had constructed, deep in the forests of the deadheads and hidden away from all the other Glader huts. On the ninth day of her existence in the Glade, Inka's wound had finally began to scab and she was well enough to trot at an average pace beside Minho as he lead her towards the hut where the diagram was kept. The Keeper of the runners quickly escorted her inside and tried to pick up his explanation of the maze where he left off, recognizing that it was easier now that he had a 3D picture corresponding to what he was talking about.

"And you guys haven't tried to climb over it?" She suddenly blurted, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at the diagram.

"The vines don't go all the way to the top," Ben shook his head, crossing his arms and staring at the centre of the map. "Whatever you can think of, we've tried."

"Going in the box?"

"It doesn't go down with someone else inside of it," Elijah cut in. "Nick was cut in half when he tried jumping in three years ago."

"Building a ladder?" She shot out, undeterred by the gruesome story.

"It's broke every time – we lost a couple guys to that one," Minho sighed, prepared to combat any other suggestions she had.

"Having you tried digging?"

The boys stayed silent, surprised at this suggestion. The Gladers hadn't bothered to try simply because they figured that actually running through the maze was faster than digging, but now that the five other brains in the room thought about it, digging to discover what could be beneath their feet was not such a bad idea.

"That's..." Minho started, trying to find a way to rule out the tactic. "Not a bad idea, actually – but running still remains the fastest way of mapping out the maze. Now listen: the maze is divided into inner and outer sections. I already told you about the inner part; even though it's kilometers wide it's the easiest part."

Inka listened to the rest of his explanation avidly, watching as he pointed towards each of the outer sectors and explaining how only one of them opened each day corresponding to it's sector. The sectors were labeled with rocks, going all the way up to the number eight. Although most of the wooden structure was completed, there were still patches of empty space that the runners clearly had not ventures to yet. The map was vast, enclosing the small green makeshift patch in the middle in a world of brown lines, but even with this bleak picture painted before her Inka refused to lose any sort of hope. She leaned forwards over the map, trying to recognize the path that she had taken from the northern entrance of the Glade whilst Minho explained that each night the doors closed, a new outer section opened up. The pattern in which the sectors opened was the same week after week, but as Minho had noticed, right after Inka had claimed to kill the Griever, that Sector stayed open.

"I was here," She specified, interrupting Minho's explanation of the various procedures they went through and pointed to the changes she knew she remembered. "But these walls were different. That means the panels I saw must be here."

"Sector 3," Minho specified, nodding ominously. "That's where you and I are headed as soon as we can go. I want to find that dead Griever of yours."

* * *

It was a week from that point until Inka was ready to run, at which point Minho basically dragged her out of the homestead where the builders had been nice enough to install a bedroll for her, and brought her to the northern doors. She had been growing more and more accustomed to life in the Glade, getting to know the other Gladers a bit better and trying to help where she could. Most of her healing time had been spent mulling over the map of the maze however, trying to ingrain the memory of it inside her head and looking over the various procedures that Minho had organized in the hut. Even though the other runners were still hesitant to socialize with her, she did not seem bothered and continued to accept Newt's visits during mealtimes to give her food. That was one point Inka could not understand; the Glade's second in command was the only boy permitted to access the map room, and was the only person who Minho didn't strangle when he saw that Newt gazed upon the nearly completed diagram that sat in the centre of the hut. Inka understood the reason why the runners were keeping the fact that it was unlikely that they were going to find a way out a secret to the whole Glade, but she did not understand how Minho could release this information to both Alby and Newt, whilst practically lying to the rest of the Glade. Although their spirits would have been dampened, they deserved to know the truth.

"Come on," Minho broke Inka out of her thoughts and ushered her along, pulling out his knife as he went.

Inka gazed at him suspiciously, nervous about his intentions, before she realized that he was leading her toward an area with markings on the wall. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that the markings were names in the wall of the maze. Several of them she could recognize, like Newt, Minho's and Alby's, but there were at least forty more she could not. Inka moved several steps closer, trying to narrow in on what the strange slashes were, before she recognized George and Nick's names. The girl gulped, turning towards Minho who had fixed his eyes on her and was watching for a reaction. It did not take any words for her to understand that these were all the Gladers' names, and the ones that were crossed out had either been killed or lost to the maze. Minho offered her the knife silently, and Inka picked it up to begin carving her name on the wall beside the only person she had any possible connections to. The two runners stood side by side moments later, gazing at the fresh name that had been carved into the wall, before Inka handed her counterpart his knife back and the two waited in front of the doors. Just as sunlight began to spill over the edges of the large stone walls, the groans and creaks that signaled the opening of the doors were heard and slowly but surely, the doors opened once more.

Minho took off immediately, not wanting to lose any time at all and not giving Inka any sort of warning. She dashed after him, vaguely recognizing corridors that she had recently inhabited and trying to remember where she had last stepped foot. It did not take long for them to find the blood trail, however, and the two traced her tracks back as far as they went. It was there, in between the two corridors where Inka knew she had taken up residence for most of her night in the maze, that she began to trace back her steps.

"I was here," She murmured, brushing Minho aside and leading him for a change. "Then here."

The two carried on a slow pace, Inka still ahead, towards the area she recognized she had come from. Little droplets of blood on the ground gave her previous trail away, leading them through winding twists and turns that seemed completely different than the ones before. Minho managed to find a way around each dead end, whether it meant climbing above the walls or shifting through oddly organized crevices to get to the other side. Inka had him to thank for that, as she was still having problems memorizing the changes that the maze went through and did not know which routes to take. It was as if she was facing a completely new maze, she realized, and any work she had done on her previous venture into the maze was pointless because she had absolutely no idea where to turn. She did manage, however, to store some of the information of their root in her head despite the annoying voice in her head that was telling her it was pointless and she would forget it anyway.

The two runners stopped for lunch when the sun grew hotter in the sky, pulling out their packs that Minho had filled graciously with food the night prior and eating until their stomachs were satisfied. They did not share many words, only sharing a grunt when Inka noticed a slight change in the taste of the bread, and quickly resumed their pace from before. It did not take long for Minho to pick up the blood trail again, and Inka followed behind almost hesitant to face what she had done last time she had been in the maze. After a little while, the oriental Glader stopped moving.

"Recognize this?" Minho stopped and asked somewhat sarcastically, staring at the large pool of what was presumably her blood that sat several feet away. In the middle of it lay a large blade, clearly attached to something inside the wall.

"Yes," Inka breathed before dashing over towards the spot. Minho followed, and the two soon discovered the body of their culprit. The horrid creature was squished in between the two walls that Inka herself had barely managed to make it out of, guts on full display and a putrid stench emerging from its remains. Both runners made a face before stepping closer, shifting it slightly to check for a reaction and then agreeing to try and pull it out of the wall by one of it's various legs.

Unfortunately, Inka's muscles were too small to contribute any great amount of energy, and Minho was not strong enough to pull an entire Griever – or a part of it – out of the wall by himself, so the two gave up after several minutes. It was then that they both noticed a faint beeping sound, muffled inside the body of the slaughtered Griever that lay before them. Ignoring the horrible smell and whatever infections could attack her body from it, Inka quickly reached inside the creature to the surprise of Minho and tried to pinpoint where there could be live mechanical parts. It took her several minutes of reaching around the carcass, nearly gagging from the sheer disgust that came with reaching into a pile of smelly guts, before she found anything. The object almost felt like a heart, and was positioned near the central cavity of the creature's body – if she could even call it a body. It took several tugs and Minho's encouragement, but she was able to tug it out and landed on her butt with a small 'oof' as the air temporarily left her lungs.

"Shucking hell," Minho cursed as he gazed at what she held in her hand. The object truly did seem like a heart; it had cavities that lead out of it and seemed like they were connected to it, and besides the yellow-ish coloring that surrounded it the thing looked like it held the most Griever slime Minho had ever seen. Inka quickly peered inside, eyes wide and curious and pulling out the metallic object that the body cavity was protecting.

"Careful she-bean," Minho warned, thinking that perhaps the beeping object was a bomb of sorts. "We don't know what that thing is."

The cylindrical metallic object was about a foot long and fairly thick in size, but light enough to hold without too much struggle. Wires on the end showed where it had been connected to the Griever's system through it's makeshift 'heart', and despite the slime coating it both Inka and Minho were able to make out a lit up red box with a electronic number '3' inside of it. The blinking red light, which emitted the beeping noises, did not falter as they continued to examine the object. Minho helped Inka up from her spot on the ground and took the object from her hands, spotting the yellow plate near the bottom that read 'WCKD' and the combination of numbers '96438916'. The bottom almost looked as though it was supposed to be plugged in somewhere, as if it was meant to be used in an electrical socket of sorts.

"Where were those panels you found?" Minho quickly packed away the beeping object after deciding that they had examined it enough, and turned to his counterpart. "We still have time to see what's up with those. Ben and Elijah should be finishing up Sector eight by now."

"Uh..." Inka furrowed her eyebrows, trying to remember which way she had headed after being stabbed and still slightly shocked that they had managed to find a clue. Since the event had been so traumatic, it was difficult to remember, but she managed to nudge her partner in the right direction. "Over here, I think."

They took off towards what was hopefully the right area and after another good hour or two of running they soon discovered the same panels that Inka had been speaking about on her third day back in the Glade after having survived that maze. The rows of stone filed into slits resembled window blinds for certain, although the experienced runner decided to name them something else in the long run.

"Blades," Minho said suddenly, looking up and down the structures and wondering if these moved as well. "They look like blades."

Suddenly, there was a creak in the distance, and the blades began to close one by one as if someone was pulling a string to close them. Both runners looked on as each section of blades – there had to be at least five or six rows of them – as they closed shut, groaning as they went.

"Better name than panels," Inka grumbled, staring at the closing structures. If the maze was beginning to shift, it could only mean that darkness was not far behind. Now was the time to end the adventure and being the journey back to the Glade.

"Alright greenie," Minho concluded, pulling her back towards where they had come from. "Good first run – let's head back before the doors close. It's getting late."

"I have a name!" She protested as they ran along, finding that she needed to increase the sound of her voice to match with the sounds of the maze changing behind them.

"Yeah," Minho chuckled, something that Inka had not seen him do before. "It's greenie until another newbie comes up in the box – should only be a couple days longer."

She stayed silent at this until she caught sight of the beeping object stuffed into his pack, and her mind flitted to what they had found once more.

"Hey," She questioned, increasing her pace to match Minho's and once again surprising herself by the sheer amount of energy that she held inside of her. "Have you ever found anything like that thing before?"

"Like I said," The buff oriental boy shook his head. "No ones ever seen a Griever and lived to tell the tale, so this is the first clue we've found in ages."

Neither of the pair said anything after that, and focused all of their efforts on tearing through the maze to make it back in time before the doors closed. The sun would start falling from the sky in a mere number of short hours, and Inka found herself very grateful that Minho knew his way back through the various formations of the maze. She knew that if it had been her, she wouldn't have been able to make it back in time for the doors to shut. Even in her first night in the maze – an experience that she knew she would never want to repeat – she had barely made it back with the limited knowledge she had about her travel route stored in her brain. Thankfully her second experience in the maze was different, and Minho led her through a clear route back into the Glade. Inka made a mental note of each twist and turn they covered, assuming that this was the fastest way to get back and marking this rotation of the maze walls as 'two'. 'One', would be the rotation she had run in yesterday, and 'three' would be the next set of changes in the maze that she encountered.

"We need to call a gathering," Minho announced to her as soon as they both stumbled back into the maze, slightly out of breath. "This is a huge progression."

Inka did not reply, merely following behind the boy until he had reached Newt's position in the garden to inform him. Alby was nowhere to be found, but if anyone could find him it was his second in command. The British boy quickly looked over the two runners, primarily checking Inka for any injuries and giving her several one overs to make sure she was doing alright before focusing in on the information that Minho was beginning to explain. After a brief rundown on what they had found in the maze and proof of it, Newt's frown was marring his face and he was already beginning to back away towards the animal pens where he knew Alby had been helping the slicers out for the day. Their leader did various jobs around the Glade that included running, proving him versatile, useful and a good example of what a Glader was supposed to be. Alby was a hard working individual who took care of his surroundings and his fellow Gladers, which was why Newt increased his pace on his way to the animal pens without a doubt in his mind that his leader would have wanted to know this information as soon as possible.

As it turned out, Alby was very shocked at this news, and called a private gathering straight away. Soon enough, the Keeper of the builders, runners, slicers, track-hoes, second in command and Inka were all accounted for in the gathering hut built by the Homestead. All were curious about the beeping object in the hands of Inka, who was looking rather nauseated by all of the eyes on her. Alby looked at her, expecting her to explain what she had found, and seeing her anxious expression Minho decided that it would be best for him to speak instead. Newt silently thanked his good friend for that, and set a comforting hand on Inka's shoulder. He knew she was nervous to present this type of information to their leader, despite her desire to assist all the boys in the Glade escape from their trapped position. Inka did not seem like a person who enjoyed crowds – even small ones – especially having run from them so many times since her arrival, and her desire to risk her life in the maze as if it was nothing like no others he had seen before. Newt saw this, and promised to himself that from now on he would side with the girl who had re-ignited the passion inside of him to find a way out of this mess. She had what it took to push and push until something broke, and he hadn't seen this type of attitude since he had had his 'accident'. Newt knew the value of her type of personality when he saw it.

"Alright," Minho started, stepping forward to face the small group of Gladers in the hut. "Like I'm sure you shanks know, Inka is the first one who's survived a night in the maze and killed a Griever. When we went to find the body today, we found this inside of it."

He gently pried the foreign object from Inka's hands, eyeing her warily.

"It says WCKD," Newt blurted suddenly, spotting the yellow plate on the side and unable to stop the words before they tumbled out of his mouth. Alby gazed at him strangely, studying the object himself. WCKD were the company (or so they assumed) responsible for sending the boys supplies every month in the infamous box as well as the new greenie. If they were now responsible for manufacturing both bugs _and_ Grievers, it could not mean anything positive. Why would this company try to help and harm the Glade at the same time?

"This is the first clue we've found in awhile," The Keeper of the runners continued. "The number in the Griever corresponds to the sector it belongs to. This one is three – the one that Inka killed."

"What does it do?" Alby had not uncrossed his arms from the moment he had stepped foot in the hut, something that was beginning to annoy Inka to no end. Their leader always looked angry and tense – perhaps if he opened his eyes a bit and understood that positivity counted for something he would be able to install a bit more hope in these boys.

"We don't know," Minho admitted. "It was too late for us to go any further – but we saw the panels Inka was talking about. They're like razor blades when they shut, and they triggered the rest of the maze to start shifting."

"Add it to the map then," Alby shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the object in his friend's hands. "And keep that thing out of sight – we don't know what it could do and I don't want any panic."

"Hold on," Gally interrupted, still unsure about Inka and the changes that she had made since she had gotten here. "This isn't right – we have coexisted with these things for three years and now we've killed one of them. This could mean a lot of things for us; bad things."

"Coexisted?" Inka found herself muttering, her voice gradually becoming louder and more laced with sarcasm as she spoke. "You know, I'm not sure if you noticed Gally, but one literally sliced me open last week. Would you consider that coexisting? Does that mean I can stab you in the leg now and we'll just call it a bloody day?"

The Keeper of the builders sent her a glare so harsh it made Newt straighten, slightly suspicious that the boy was going to do something in return to her sarcastic remark. Alby quickly quieted her and the beginnings of a series of rude comments from Gally, not wanting a fight to break out whether it was verbal or physical. After they were both quiet, he focused the attention on himself once more and addressed any concerns, trying to ignore the very protective stance that Newt had taken up beside Inka, almost shielding her from Gally and the rest of the boys.

"Listen," He held a hand out as he spoke, trying to reassure the small group. "For now, we keep this between us. The runners will try and figure out what it is and what it means, and the rest of us will stay quiet."


	4. Advancements

**Advancements**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.** **  
**

It had been settled that after the rather tense gathering mere days ago, Inka's bonfire would be held after all. Although it was almost halfway through the month – it had been a mere ten or eleven days since the girl had arrived in the box – the boys decided they needed a cheerful bonfire more than anything at that time. They had also asked Inka if there was anything special they could do for her as a form of friendship, sort of an offer of companionship despite the rough entrance she had made in the Glade. She had politely declined any offers for new clothing or a special meal, insisting that she would eat whatever the other boys were having and that she could stick with the same clothes she had been in for the past week and a half. She had, however, asked for one strange request; Inka wanted to see her reflection. This came as a shock to Newt, who had almost forgotten that she still had no idea what she looked like and was most likely extremely uncomfortable knowing that her face had scars she could not see.

The boys granted her request as soon as she returned from her run with Minho, slightly frustrated that he still refused to go back to the blades just yet and had instead taken to instructing the runners to climb up on top of the maze walls to try and understand the patterns of the puzzle's inner portions. Although he was still uncertain about her joining the runners in the Glade, he knew that she was agile enough to be able to survive and trusted her instincts to know when something was wrong. So, as a sort of reward, Newt had helped haul a decent sized bucket filled with water from the pump – one that the Gladers usually used to bathe with – back to the Homestead so that she could finally see what she looked like. He didn't know why he was so consumed with her, really, but he felt a pull towards the girl that he hadn't felt with anyone else before.

"Want to take a look, love?" He tried to be gentle with his tone, acknowledging that seeing her own face after having her memory wiped could be a sensitive subject.

"I'm not ugly, am I?" She glanced uncertainly – and somewhat disdainfully – between Newt and Jeff, who had both chipped in to help her with her request.

"No!" Newt immediately replied, only making Jeff smirk slightly. The med-jack was seemingly the only one who noticed the pull between the two, which only served to amuse himself and frustrate poor Newt to no end. Said second in command sent the medic a glare, causing the smirking boy to take his leave.

"No - you're not ugly," Newt reassured once the other boy was gone and tried to resist the urge to compliment her. "I promise you, Inka. Just have a look."

She crept closer and closer to the bucket as if it was some kind of frightened animal, obviously uncertain and very anxious. Newt stayed as still as possible, waiting until she was close enough to the bucket to move his position and watch her reaction. As she saw more and more of herself in the puddle of water, she began to touch her nose, eyes and mouth as if she was remembering it all again. She was thin, as her sharp features and high cheek bones revealed. She could spot her collarbones poking out from the shirt she had arrived in, and noticed the slenderness of her neck as it craned so that she could see more of herself. Her hair was choppy and short indeed, but Inka had a feeling that in her previous life she would have enjoyed it that way – it was more practical when it came to running or fighting. Her eyes, a very grey and calculating, peered curiously back at her like she was from another realm and this was all a dream. She shuddered as she finally focused in on the scars, touching each one and measuring their thickness. Inka supposed they were not too bad; the thickness was average and they did not impede her functioning, so she tried to be grateful that whatever it was that had scratched her had not come back for seconds.

"I look like a mouse," Inka suddenly realized, noticing her small nose and plump lips. Her statement caused Newt to let out a short laugh which he quickly tried to hide, not wanting to cause the girl any blow in her confidence. She seemed too distracted to pay attention, however, and was consumed with poking at the scar on the right side of her face.

"You don't look like a mouse," Newt kept a grin on his face, watching as she touched her cheek and ran her thin fingers through her short hair. "You look like a perfectly normal human being."

He wanted to stay more, but resisted when he reminded himself of the fact that he did not want to seem too forward. Inka seemed to take in what he had said, and did not spend too much longer staring at herself despite being very curious about her body. Surprisingly, she assisted Newt in carrying the bucket back towards Frypan's kitchen and returned to the fire pit to help the boys set up. Although she could not lift half of a log herself, she pitched in whatever effort she could and even helped dish out the food with the Glade's cook. Newt watched her as she tried her best to smile at her fellow Gladers, despite her very closed off attitude and strange paranoid glances. He noted that she was trying as hard as she could to be a part of the awkward society they had made for themselves, even though it was obvious that she was still struggling to adapt herself into the situation. As the maze doors closed and night fell over the Glade, Alby ignited each and every boy's stick to prepare for the burning of the fire pit. With a large cry, the Gladers threw their sticks onto the big wood pile and yelped in excitement when it went up in flames, beginning to pass out food and drink. Inka sat and watched the fire at first, distracted by the orange glow and fascinated at the way the flames tickled at the sky. It took the girl a second or two to realize that someone was speaking with her, but upon realization of the fact she turned her head and was greeted with Gally's intense face.

"Are you listening, greenie?" He lifted a suspicious jar of liquid up to her face, trying his best to be civil. "I said 'drink up' – this is in your honor."

Inka grasped the container of liquid that she thought looked a little too familiar with the jar Jeff had in the med-jack hut, but upon glancing around and seeing that the other boys were drinking it without a problem she took an experimental whiff. The smell hit her hard, burning her nostrils and making her recoil slightly. Gally smirked, crossing his arms as he stood before her and watched the gears turn in her head. Both acknowledged that for now, he was no longer too upset with her.

"What exactly is this?" She scrunched her nose up, sitting on one of the logs she had helped drag over and looking up at the Keeper of the builders. She was certain it was alcoholic, but she was unsure of whether or not she wanted to ingest something she couldn't name.

"Secret recipe," Gally's smirk widened as he nodded towards Newt who came to sit beside the girl. Both stared towards her in expectation, waiting for her to try the concoction. "Give it a whirl."

She looked suspiciously between the two one final time, and then took a small sip of the drink. The rough taste hit her instantly, burning her throat as it went down and making her gag slightly before she persevered. After a week and a half of being surrounded by this insanity, she was particularly inclined to indulge in these sorts of festivities, and this perspective pushed her to continue her elongated sip of the mystery substance.

"Woah love – slow down there," Newt moved the jar away from her lips before she could continue chugging the mixture, causing Gally to let out a chuckle of approval before he left the scene. "Never seen someone that excited about Gally's slosh before."

Inka raised a brow, licking and smacking her lips at the aftertaste in efforts to riddle out how it could have been made. She couldn't remember anything about alcohol or how it originated, although she knew it to be a beverage that inebriated a person and could have very negative effects if drunken in large quantities. Again, there was that infuriating missing patch of knowledge that constantly served as a barrier between her and the answers she was looking for. Why had anyone done this? What was the purpose in placing thirty something people – and one girl – in a green pasture in the middle of a terrible, moving maze? These were the questions that haunted Inka's mind at night, consuming her thoughts and making her all the more motivated in the mornings to get out of her cot and search the maze once more. She had an incredible thirst for information, storing whatever she could in her mind and doing her best to riddle out what she found. This was also the main reason that Minho had taken such a liking to her, as he voiced when he sat down on the other side of the runner on the log.

"So," The Keeper of the runners started, settling his near empty plate on the ground at his feet. "You're pretty fast on your feet – in your head, too."

She said nothing at this, only raising a brow towards him as if asking what his point was silently.

"I'm saying you got what it takes greenie," Minho continued, taking a large gulp out of his own jar and pointing to Inka's head. "You know? Up there is where it counts."

After this comment, Inka noticed the oriental boy's gaze pass over her and make contact with Newt, who's eyes were focused on the fire just as hers had been moments ago. The British boy said nothing and merely tightened his jaw, making the girl realize that Minho had been talking about her sense of faith and hope. The runner was trying to make a point that positivity counted, especially since they had been hunting for a way out for three years and had not made any progressions thus far. It was sad, really, how the difference had to come from a stupid girl like Inka running into the maze completely blind as to what lay inside of it. Of course, she rationalized, she could not blame them for losing a bit of hope – especially when new boys kept arriving each week and continued to remind them of the surreal reality of the situation. Alarm was constant and the demand for a way out was always in the air, regardless of if it was spoken or not. Inka could already sense this within her first week in the Glade, and took pity on the boys who's loss of faith had affected them so far. She could only begin to wonder the effects of those who had, at one point or another, completely lost hope.

"Thank you," Inka muttered, not knowing how to respond any further to his comment. Minho gave her an abrupt nod before standing up, and she realized that that sort of praise was difficult for him to give out. The runner did not seem like the friendliest boy in the Glade, but she knew that just like herself he needed to hold a lot of hope inside of himself to get his job done each day. And for that, she found that her respect for him grew by a fair bit.

"So she-bean," Newt changed the subject as soon as Minho had departed, still staring into the fire with a gaze Inka couldn't place an emotion to. "How's your first week been?"

"All right," She admitted, relieved that the Gladers had gotten slightly more used to her presence and were not so awkward around her anymore. "This whole situation is just...baffling, still."

"I know," The British boy's gaze hardened once more, but he still refused to look at her. "We all know."

"Newt," She turned her eyes to him slowly, suddenly extremely curious and slightly anxious for his answer as the question popped up in her brain. "Exactly how long have _you_ been in here?"

He hesitated to answer at first, not wanting to give her the truth and discourage her. He had put up such a brave front for his friends even after his incident and pretended that it hadn't occurred that he was frightened to revisit the subject. He was even more reluctant to admit how long he had been stuck in the square enclosure with fifty-something other boys, but he knew that she deserved a truthful answer.

"Three years," He gritted out, somewhat painfully. It took a lot more than he thought to admit it.

Inka was silent for a little while, heaving a deep breath and turning her stare back to the fire before taking a long swig of her drink. The taste was slightly familiar, but she could not gauge why and settled for ignoring the fact for the time being. It distracted her from the large voice in her head shouting that her chances of helping these boys was slim if it was true that they had not made any progressions in the past three years. She took another long drink, trying to understand how horrible it would have been to have spent three years in a hellhole such as this one – despite it's wonderful open pastures that were rather alluring when compared to the monsters of the maze – for three years. She could not imagine the sheer amount of anger and restlessness that these boys must have felt, especially considering her own intense feelings of being trapped only after a week and a half of arriving.

"I'm sorry," She finally admitted, unsure of whether her statement was going to help or hurt the boy beside her. He said nothing, only gripped his own jar of Gally's drink a little harder. "I promise I'm going to help as much as I can."

At her words, Newt's shoulders finally drooped and he let out a long sigh. Her intentions were good and the way she had both inspired and startled the residents of the Glade was remarkable, but he still had problems accepting that an answer for their misery was out there. After so long searching and putting in tremendous efforts to get out of the stone box they had been placed in, it was difficult to maintain hope for the future. Newt had given up before, and was fighting very hard not to give up again. The she-bean surprisingly helped his case, although the last thing he wanted to think about in the moment was the question of whether or not they were going to find a way out.

"Does it ever rain here?" Inka questioned, spotting the water pump near the entry box and frowning slightly. Newt found himself relieved at the subject change, and sat a little straighter in his spot after taking a swig of his drink.

"No," He shook his head, squinting slightly. "We can't figure out why. It's always hot, always sunny – just...never rains."

Inka raised one of her slender brows yet again, trying to piece together the information in her mind. It was odd and terrifying at the same time, how thirty something boys could be placed in a solitary confined area away from the rest of society – or whatever had happened to the rest of society – and kept there for three years all the while adding one boy each month to their ever growing pile. The motive behind such a task required extensive planning and key players, players obviously powerful enough to wipe memories and intelligent enough to design the obstacle course that lay beyond the four walls enclosing the Glade. It was frightening to think of whomever had been capable of putting them here; frightening to think of what would happen if they got out as well, but Inka knew that there was no other option.

This was a pseudo-idyllic cage, and she knew it.

"So it never snows either?" She looked around, trying to assess if there were any obvious indicators that signified weather control. She didn't know exactly what she was looking for, but couldn't spot anything out of the ordinary with the moon and the stars in the sky.

"Nope," Newt sighed again, watching as Inka took a long drink out of her jar. "Nothing. No weather changes, no animals and definitely no girls, until you came along."

"So I'm the oddity?" She grumbled, frowning again as she gazed around the fire. Some of the boys had taken to playing makeshift drums – a talent she imagined they would have gotten quite good at after being stuck in the Glade for so long with no entertainment – and others had taken to performing tricks and flips to accompany the sounds. Everyone was eating, laughing and enjoying themselves, which still came as a surprise to the girl who noted their resilient spirits.

"I didn't mean it like that," The second in command scoffed slightly, letting a small smile twist the corners of his mouth up. "We just don't know why, after three years, they sent you up here. I mean – there's got to be a reason, right?"

Inka was silent for a moment, taking another drink of the harsh liquid that Gally had given her and realizing that she was already halfway through the jar before shaking her head. She didn't want to think about the rather crude possibilities that the 'creators' had in mind when they sent her up here, and was glad that the members of the Glade had some decency to accept her as one of their own instead of a chew toy.

"Well," She sighed disdainfully, silently cursing her lack of memory. "We're shot out of luck then, because I can't remember much at all."

"Much?" Newt turned to her in question, his dark eyes piercing her grey ones.

"I remember feelings," She tried to explain, struggling to describe her thoughts through the holes in her conscience. "Certain things are familiar – but I don't know why or where I can remember them from. It's like it got stuck in my subconscious somewhere and when they pulled my memories those got stuck in the drain."

"What's familiar?" He felt his heart rate pick up slightly, excited by the fact that there was a possibility of her remembering something real. No one had been able to come up with any information as to their past thus far, so the fact that she was capable of remembering past feelings meant that there could be a possible bridge between the Gladers and the world they had been stripped from.

"Smells, touches, tastes, feelings..." She listed off. "Feelings _for_ things, but I can't remember why or how they got there."

"And you really can't remember anything about your face?" Newt pushed, truly curious about the nature of her scars.

Inka shook her head, making another face and finishing the last of her drink. "Nothing – not a bloody lick of a memory."

Her British counterpart sighed, shoulders drooping until he heard her take a short inhale. His eyes reattached themselves to her face, striving to listen and hoping that she would talk more.

"Although there is something..." She frowned towards the fire, squinting her eyes slightly as though it would help her remember more of the memory. "I remember a warm feeling in my stomach and being drawn somewhere, almost like a string was pulling me or something. It felt like someone else was pulling, but it wasn't a bad feeling – I just can't place where it's from."

Newt didn't respond to that and instead chose to let silence fall over them for a bit, not knowing what to say when it came to feelings considering he could not remember any of his own. He knew that somewhere in his brain they were locked away, protected by the horrors that were the creators actions. The boy was desperate to find answers, but knew that this was something that he had allowed to get to him before. The strong emotions that came with the determination to solve the puzzle the Gladers had been handed followed with repercussions, especially when that puzzle was nigh impossible to figure out. Regardless of the boy's frenzied actions, the puzzle had continued to beat his efforts each time and succeeded in breaking his spirit. Whatever boldness he had left inside of him had disappeared, which was why he was so surprised when he felt a tinge of it resurface the day that Inka had shown up in the box.

"Listen," Newt was inclined to share his thoughts about the maze with her before she got carried away, and felt a certain wave of protection towards the she-bean. "I know you're probably not going to listen to me at all, but I figure I should warn you that it's easy to get sucked into the maze. Answers don't come often, and it's easy to lose yourself."

Inka regarded him warily, grey eyes looking him up and down as she tried to decipher the hidden meaning in his statement. At this point the alcohol had clogged up in her system, causing her thoughts to turn slightly hazy and her functioning to be impeded by a fair bit. She wasn't sure how to respond to his words, and instead chose to nod sullenly in hopes that he would understand that she had taken his advice into account. Her hopes were boosted by the fact that she had clearly already made such progress in her short time here, but she accepted that the maze was a feat to be reckoned with and considering the fact that the boys here had not found anything in three years, it was likely that she would laps into the same cycle. It was terrifying, really, not knowing how long it would be until a way out was found. The consequence was being stuck in this glorified cage for longer and putting everyone under more stress to find clues for escape, and naturally it took a toll on those who were set with the responsibility of hunting for those clues.

"I don't doubt that losing myself is possible," Inka pondered suddenly, meeting Newt's eyes. "But I would rather lose myself trying to help everyone else get out of here instead of letting them lose themselves too."

Newt nodded at her expected reaction and sighed, only staring into the fire as he acknowledged that he didn't have the heart to tell her his story in that moment.

* * *

Almost a month had gone by, and Inka was beginning to grow angry.

She hadn't expected running the maze to be easy, but her capability of memorizing changes was slow and Minho had taken to try and explore all of the other sectors before solving the mystery of her dead Griever's sector. It drove her mad, and she constantly complained about his methods and insisted that at least one team of runners should try and figure out the blades. Minho, however, continuously disagreed with her and pushed her to focus on her strength training. Although her weight had fluctuated very little since her arrival, Inka found that her arms were getting stronger each time her and her running partner – sometimes it was Minho, and sometimes it was Ben – climbed the maze's walls to try and help map the structure. Even Newt, who noticed her thin frame - still highlighted by womanly curves - more than most, had noticed her muscle gain. The two had made a point of making eye contact each time she darted into the maze every morning, checking in on each other silently and making sure that everything was alright before she stepped foot into the dangerous moving puzzle. Newt felt comforted by the fact that she was more drawn to him than the other Gladers, perhaps because of the fact that he had shown her more patience and attention after he had been so reinvigorated by her spirit. She affected him more than he wanted to admit, and although the two had not done a large amount of talking during the month – she had stuck to her job and had not spoken any more about her strange memories about feelings – Newt was always the person she chose to sit beside during meals or gatherings and besides Minho, was always the sole person she directed her questions or concerns towards. Newt felt a strange way towards the girl, as though he preferred to have her close at all times instead of afar and had the undeniable urge to run after her as she disappeared into the maze every day. He hated watching her go, and despite the fact that he knew she was a very positive asset to the Glade and was helping to answer their questions, his protectiveness did nothing but shout in his head all day.

He still could not put a name to the cluster of emotions he felt nor decipher why he was feeling them.

It did not help that the end of the month was nearing, and the boys – plus Inka – were preparing for the next greenie to arrive in the box. Each boy that arrived caused more and more pressure to be placed on the heads of the Glade to find an answer, and it did not help that with every month that went by the spirits of the Gladers dampened more and more. Their hope lay in the box, as it was their only source of information and survival besides the maze and it was the only possibility of getting another Glader fast and strong enough with a will to survive the stone fortress surrounding the Glade.

The last day of the month passed over the Glader's heads as they went along their daily business, and none paid any heed to the box until the alarm went off. It happened just several hours after breakfast, and Newt was almost glad that Inka had already set off on one of her runs with Elijah this morning. He was certain that the buzzing alarm would have traumatized her, and he did not want her to face any more emotional discomfort whilst she was present in the Glade. None of the boys knew what to expect in the box, especially considering Inka's arrival last month, and were all slightly nervous when Gally and Newt opened the cage doors as per usual. What greeted them was a perfectly normal boy, who was staring back at them with a large amount of confusion on his face and looked like he was nearly going to wet himself when the Keeper of the builders jumped down to collect him from the cage. Gally muttered something to the boy before pulling him out, throwing him to the ground and letting the rest of the boys crowd around him. It wasn't long before the green bean got overwhelmed and let his panic push him out of the crowd.

"We got another runner!" Zart exclaimed excitedly, watching as the boy propelled himself across the grass.

"Another one?" Newt sighed in frustration, watching as several builders took off after their new arrival. "Not again."

Fortunately, the boy did not get far before his feet stumbled and failed him, resulting in his collision to the ground and a large heap of laughter from the Gladers. It was not long before the builders siezed him, throwing him in the pit to calm him down just to make sure he didn't turn into another Inka. Alby had decided to take special precautions ever since her arrival, laying out the ground rules that if a greenie ran, they were to be detained until the rules of the Glade could be explained to them. The boys could not afford rebels; they needed to make sure each person that came up in the box was willing to fight on their side. The green-bean stayed in the makeshift prison for several hours, until Newt spotted Alby unlocking him from the wooden cage and showing him around the Glade. The second in command was introduced as Alby brought him closer to the Track-hoe area, at which point Newt deciphered that the boy was fit enough to be a runner but lacked some basic coordination the job required.

"For a second there I thought you had the chops to be a runner," Newt teased the new arrival, squinting from the sunlight as he shared a grin with his leader. "But then you took that wicked face plant."

The green-bean managed a smile, understanding that he was joking, and then immediately questioned the maze. At this, Alby tensed up and asked Newt to go find Chuck, deciding that he would not answer the greenie's question until he had learnt the rules first. It was bad enough that the second arrival in a row had made a run for it, but now that it was clear he was curious about it it only foreshadowed trouble for the community; and the community had had enough trouble with Inka as it was. Unfortunately, it was only a mere hour later that the green-bean's frustration and confusion took a toll on his actions again.

"Hey! Don't touch me!" A roar came from the Northern Gates, and Newt's ears barely had time to register the sound before he darted off in the direction of the cry. Several Gladers followed suit, noticing a violent interaction between Gally and the new greenie as they drew closer. Newt already had enough to worry about as Elijah and Inka had not made it back from their run yet after the rest of the runners had made it back in the past hour, so the British boy was nearing the end of his rope for the day.

"Take it easy, take it easy," Gally was reprimanding the new arrival as he panicked, shielding him from the maze. "Just relax!"

"What the hell is wrong with you guys?!" The boy paced back and forth, holding his arms out and covered in dirt. He had clearly had a scruff with Gally, who was looking rather upset himself.

"Just calm down, alright?" Newt stuck a hand out as he slowed his pace upon his arrival to the scene, trying to comfort the greenie the same way he did with Inka. As he suspected, his first try yielded no positive outcome.

"No, okay?!" The boy cried, eyes wide and alarmed. "Why won't you tell me what's out there?!"

"We're just trying to protect you man," Alby cut in, knowing that the boy would not easily be swayed unless it was clear the maze was a threat. His statement, however, did not deter him.

"It's for your own good," Newt added for good measure.

"You guys can't just keep me here!" The boy refused to calm himself, still pacing and clearly extremely agitated. It was as if he was preparing for a fight between him and the rest of the boys, trying to riddle out if he could take them all at once and what they would try to do to keep him here. The greenie would have to realize that they were not against him to stop panicking.

"We can't let you leave!" Alby nearly shouted, causing some of the Gladers to jump. Alby tried to keep his composure when he could; he did not like losing control and it was rare for him to do so. Perhaps the two new arrivals these past months had put him through more stress than he had imagined they would.

"Why not?!" The greenie questioned, and as if on cue the maze doors let out a load groan to announce their closing.

Newt nearly felt his stomach drop to his feet as the Gladers, including the new greenie who was rather shocked to say the least, crowded around the entrance to stare into the moving nightmare. A large cloud of dust swept towards their way, carrying dirt and leaves towards the boys. Several squinted, turning away from the rumbling stone apparatus and then looking back only when the noise had somewhat stopped. It was then that the doors began to close.

The second in command felt his heart rate pick up rapidly as he crept closer to the entrance of the maze, swearing to himself that if Elijah and Inka did not appear at the end of the corridor by the time the doors were halfway shut he was going to say fuck all to the rules and dart inside. He doubted that she could survive another night in the maze, especially with Elijah – who was significantly slower than her – in tow, and did not care for rules if it meant that she was going to come into harm's way. But then, like clockwork, the two appeared at the end of the corridor and rapidly made their way towards the gates. There were no words from the Gladers as the two runners seemed to be in healthy conditions despite looking very worn out, and it was quite certain that they were going to make it back before the doors shut. The two passed into the grassy enclosure from the stone floor seconds later, slightly out of breath and surprised at the new face that greeted them.

"New greenie?" Elijah stuck his hand out, gauging the boy's reaction when it took awhile for him to respond to the gesture. The runner supposed it was a rather strange situation to get used to in the moment, and the fact that him and Inka had stumbled out of the maze just before it had closed on them did not help the shock case whatsoever.

"Yeah," Gally snorted, facing the new arrival once more with his arms crossed and a sour expression on his face. "And next time green-bean, I'm lettin' ya leave."

The boy seemed speechless, but Newt acknowledged that it was for reasons other than the fact that the maze doors had closed. The green-bean had his eyes trained on Inka suspiciously, as if her form was something abnormal. Newt supposed that since she was the first girl the greenie had spotted so far his reaction to her was normal – several of the boys still stared at Inka curiously and a little too intensely for Newt's liking – but the second in command still placed himself between the girl and the greenie. The new boy gave him a strange look, but it wasn't long before Chuck, the youngest boy in the Glade who had taken to showing most of the new arrivals around, ushered the greenie out of the scene and lead him back towards the homestead where a cot had surely been set up for him by the sloppers.

"We got to the blades," Inka explained, eyeing Alby and Newt after the rest of the boys had walked away with the greenie in tow. "They almost closed on us – when they shut, they try to trap you in."

"Each row closes in the opposite direction," Elijah continued for her. "We haven't gotten to the areas after that."

Alby regarded them both with his arms crossed, trying to take in this new information. This was the first time that the runners were actually picking up useful information, and although it was exciting the leader felt slightly nervous about the consequences that lay outside the walls.

"Keep looking," He instructed the two, who were already peeling off their packs and taking out their small parchments to map what they had seen. "But remember to stick to Minho's plans."

Newt watched as Elijah took off, running towards the deadheads where he knew the large map of the maze lay. Inka, however, sunk down to the grass and sat indian style as she began to draw. Newt decided to wait until she was finished and sat next to her, watching her sketch out her section of the maze she had explored today. He said nothing as he watched her slender fingers grip the makeshift wax writing utensil, appreciating the gentleness in her strokes. His eyes trailed up her arms, collarbones and then over her face, taking in how her eyebrows furrowed when she tried to remember a certain passage she had traveled through and bit her lip in frustration. She blinked more the harder she concentrated, causing Newt to smile slightly each time she rubbed out a section of her map. She was truly beautiful, regardless of whether or not she saw it. Whether or not she noticed him looking he did not know, but if she did it was clear that she had no intentions of stopping him.


	5. Stung

**Stung**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.** **  
**

The new greenie's bonfire turned out to be more or less the same as Inka's had gone. The same fire pit was loaded up with wood, the same goat skull was placed at the top, and the same flamed torches were thrown into the pit after a cry from Alby. The process apparently repeated itself each month, and although Inka saw that it was rather repetitive, the boys enjoyed it. It was their way of letting loose in the midst of the desperate situation they had been placed in, and despite the ruckus that involved nearly forty boys – and one girl – Inka enjoyed it. She gratefully accepted Gally's jar of liquid and picked up one of the roasting pieces of meat Frypan was tending to near the fire pit, content that she had survived her first month without getting locked back in the maze for a night and managed to help the Gladers make their way out of here. For her, the bonfire was not only a welcoming ceremony for the new greenie but also a personal congratulatory celebration for her progress so far. So, she managed to plaster a small smile on her face and take part in the festivities, hoping that she would be able to forget the walls of the maze for just the night. The boys shared a toast, cheering out to the Gladers and celebrating with the drums and flip kicks once more before dispersing into smaller separate groups. Inka found herself calm by Newt's side, as she had not protested when he had subconsciously placed a warm hand on her back to lead her away from the particularly rowdy bunch of slicers that she had been especially uncomfortable with.

The two Brits found themselves sitting next to the new greenie, who kept looking more and more out of it by the second and barely even acknowledged their presence. He was busy staring at the maze, something that Inka had done on her first two nights in the Glade when she was hidden in her tree.

"Hell of a first day greenie," Newt looked the greenie up and down, chewing on his own piece of meat. "Almost beat Inka over here."

The girl gave the new boy a shaky smile, nerves out of wack on account of the fact that he was the next new arrival besides her. His presence in the Glade was proof that there were superior controllers out there, sending more and more people into this hellhole for what was quite possible an inhumane reason. The boy gave her a smile back, but it was not full and she could only guess why. Entering in this type of situation was extremely traumatizing as it was, but to enter into an already formed society without the option to leave was even more limiting and worrying. She did not concern herself with his reaction, however, and finished her meat quickly only to throw the stick into the grass ahead of her.

"Are you the only girl here?" The new arrival questioned, craning his neck to look at her. All he got in response was several sharp nods after she took a large gulp of her drink. The boy gazed at her and the suspicious jar of liquid warily for another second before frowning even deeper than he already had been.

"Here," Newt handed the greenie his own jar of liquid upon noting that his interest in the substance was sparked, interested in seeing the boy's reaction. What happened did not disappoint. "Put some hair on your chest."

"Oh!" The boy spluttered as soon as the drink his the back of his mouth, and deftly handed the jar back to Newt before spitting the contents inside his mouth all over the grass in front of him. "Oh - oh my god, what is that?!"

"I don't even know," Newt laughed as he watched the greenie splutter and cough the remaining drink out of his mouth. "It's Gally's recipe – it's a trade secret."

"Yeah well," The green-bean huffed, sitting back against the log the three were leaning on. "He's still an asshole."

"He saved your life today," Newt stated pointedly, unknowingly causing Inka's listening to perk up. It was something in his tone that drew her attention again; something that he was hiding when he spoke about the maze and anything to do with it. She also had not heard about the incident that caused the greenie to be so close to the maze walls when she and Elijah had arrived, causing her to be curious when Newt mentioned that Gally had protected the new arrival in some way.

"Trust me," The second in command continued, peaking Inka's interest again. "The maze is a dangerous place."

"We're trapped here, aren't we?" The greenie surprised both Gladers sitting beside him with the question, and Newt looked towards Inka worriedly for a split second before responding.

"For now," He took another swig of his drink before pointing behind him to the band of runners eating by the fire. "But do you see those guys over there? Those are the runners – and their Keeper, Minho. They're the fastest and strongest out of us all – and every day they risk their necks running into the maze to map it out. Over and over again."

"How long have they been looking?" The greenie frowned again, growing more and more curious with each piece of information that was handed to him.

"Three years," Newt deadpanned, now facing him fully. Inka was growing agitated, drinking more and more of Gally's substance to try and calm herself.

"And they haven't found anything?" The boy recoiled slightly, almost in pure shock that these boys had tried so hard for so long and come up with nothing.

"No," Inka's indignant British accent butted in, causing Newt to huff slightly and turn to her. Information was not supposed to be shared with Gladers who had not been placed yet, so he hoped that she would not run her mouth out of pride. "I found something."

"And?"

Newt held his breath as the greenie asked the question, looking towards the scruffy haired girl who was looking ahead and taking vicious gulps of her drink.

"I can't tell you, because you're not a runner and you're not a leader – but I found something," She assured in complete confidence, meeting his brown eyes with her cool grey ones. "And it's a clue. It'll help us get out."

The British second in command sighed in relief at her answer, glad that she had not let him down and proud that she had the capability to keep certain secrets. He was also once more surprised by her sheer amount of confidence on the matter of the beeping metal cylinder she had found – in reality there was no way of knowing whether or not it was a clue that would help the Gladers escape, but her capability to exude endless amounts of faith in whatever she found reinvigorated Newt's passion for finding a way out. Funnily enough, the hint seemed to reassure the new arrival and he sat back with a small grimace on his face. Obviously, the feeling of being trapped would take awhile to subside, but the greenie would be able to get his mind back on track sooner rather than later if he stuck with the determination that Inka recognized.

"Well, how complicated can it be?" The new arrival fixed the maze with another glare, undermining the difficulty of the situation.

"It's easier said than done," Newt grinned slightly at the boy's underestimation, pointing up at the sky so that the green-bean could focus on the creaks and groans coming from the walls. "Listen – hear that? That's the maze changing. It changes every night – the runners have to memorize each and every one of the movements it makes."

"How is that even possible?" The greenie questioned, directing his lament to what seemed to be the entire maze and how it was humanly possible to navigate it. Inka drew a breath, and Newt noted that she was growing anxious once more.

"You can ask the people who put us in here if you ever meet the bastards," Newt scoffed, pausing to take another long drink. "Listen, the truth is that the runners are the only ones who really know whats out there. It's a good thing that they're the strongest and the fastest of us all because if they don't make it back before those doors close they're stuck out there for the night. And the only person who's come back alive from a night in the maze is Inka."

"How? Why?" The greenie turned to the girl sitting beside Newt almost immediately, his thirst for more information betraying his previously calm facial expression.

"She didn't know what she was doing," Newt spoke for her, who he knew did not want to explain her traumatizing night and who had taken to tracing a pattern on the glass jar distractedly. "When she first came up in the box last month she ran straight for the deadheads," Newt motioned towards the large forest that lay where the 3D map of the maze lay. "and hid for two days – none of us could find her or catch her when she ran. Then the little slinthead stole from us and headed straight into the maze when the doors closed like a shuckhead she-bean."

The greenie continued to listen intently, even through the pause in the British boy's speech where he looked over at Inka knowingly.

"We all thought she was dead – wouldn't that have been unlucky as klunk? Think of it - the only girl we have and she gets killed by the bloody maze like everyone else we've lost," Newt shook his head and smiled slightly, remembering the night the boys had spent in shock and the sheer stupidity of the sole woman they had ever seen in their time in the Glade. "But she came back – hurt but bloody alive. She came back to help us – but she's been the first to survive."

"What happened to the others?" The new arrival was fully immersed in Newt's tales, mouth hanging half open and eyes alive with passion.

"Well, we call 'em Grievers," Newt wrapped a comforting arm around Inka's shoulders, sensing that she needed it at the moment and not wanting to let her down or make her feel unsafe. "No one had ever seen one and lived to tell about it until Inka came back and told us she'd killed one. It wasn't until Minho took her out there and they found the bloody thing with the clue that we realized she meant business."

The green-bean made no noise in return after the second in command quieted, only listened to the sounds of the ominous maze rumbling and changing in the night as if it was conversing with them itself. Inka was the only one that caught his slight shiver as she finished the rest of her drink, causing Newt to turn his attention back to the festivities occurring behind them.

"Right well," He slapped a hand on the boy's back, beginning to stand up and speaking somewhat teasingly. "That's enough questions for one night – come on. You're supposed to be the guest of honor!"

"Oh no, no..." The greenie tried to refuse, but Newt shoved him alone whole heartedly with a mischievous chuckle and promised to show him around. The three began to walk back towards the fire pit as soon as Newt coaxed Inka out of her sitting position, urging her that he could refill her jar if she got up and walked around with them. It was then that the greenie noted the gentleness of his tone when he was around her and the way he spoke with her, almost as if he was making a point to treat her differently than the others. The boy was not sure if it was because she was the only girl, but so far he had not seen that sort of behavior with the other boys who spoke with Inka. Either way, he shoved the thought out of his mind and chose to focus on the British boy's words.

"Alright, so – over there we've got the builders," Newt pointed towards the group crowded around the ring, which was a rope on a piece of sand where it was the only legal place in the Glade for the boys to wrestle and possibly hurt each other. Gally, of course, was in the centre, handing some poor boys ass back to him. "Very good with their hands, but then not a lot going on upstairs."

The greenie continued to follow Newt, gazing curiously at the pods of boys surrounding them. Inka trailed behind, stumbling slightly as her small body tried to digest the alcohol she had ingested.

"And then we've got Winston," Newt continued, noticing Inka's shudder as she thought of the work that the slicers did. "Keeper of the slicers – they cut up the animals that we use for food."

The greenie gave an involuntary shiver as well, and Newt deduced that he could safely rule out that job for the boy to try.

"And then we've got two med-jacks – Clint and Jeff!" Newt grinned when the two boys greeted him as they passed by. "They spend most of their time bandaging up the slicers."

"What if I want to be a runner?" The greenie pushed for an answer as the group of three stopped moving, forcing Newt to stop his introductions of all the jobs in the Glade.

"Have you listened to a word I've just said? No one wants to be a runner – besides nutty shanks like this one," Newt scoffed, pulling Inka closer and ruffling her hair. She merely let out a small squeak and a burp in response, peering up at the greenie with her wide eyes. "Besides, you've got to get chosen."

"Chosen? By who?" The green-bean didn't have time to wait for an answer before he was shoved onto the ground thanks to a builder, who had gracefully performed the act on purpose to either intimidate him or rile him up. It was time for the initiation, something that Inka had skipped considering the fact that she had wrestled with Alby and no one wanted to tire themselves out fighting with the girl who seemed to be a master of avoidance during scuffles. She was small, jumpy and slippery, and no one wanted to waste their time on her.

"Woah!" The boy stumbled, and Inka took several steps back before backing away completely to go pick up another jar of Gally's drink. She was growing particularly fond of it, despite not discovering how it was made or why Gally had come up with it in the first place.

"Whaddya say greenie?" Gally teased, standing opposite of the new arrival in the circle and holding his arms out. "Wanna see what you're made of? Huh?"

Several of the boys began to chant 'greenie' in repetition, looking towards the new boy who was undoubtedly caving in to the peer pressure. In a mere matter of seconds, Gally was explaining the rules to the poor boy who was still looking around him at the thirty plus sea of faces cheering and whooping. It was rather barbaric, Inka deduced from her spot on a log several feet away. She did not agree with practically forced initiations that caused physical harm to those in the community the boys claimed to be so stable, but the green-bean looked like he was holding his own. Gally had taken a couple of shots at him so far, but at one point the boy was able to trick the Keeper of the builders into a fake shot and it resulted in a face full of sand for Gally. The crowd went wild, proud of the new greenie, until he uttered a rather egotistical remark and was promptly knocked on his ass by Gally's leg. The blow seemingly injured his head as well, because when he got up moments later he seemed slightly dazed.

"Thomas..." The boy muttered, and Inka frowned cautiously, peering through the spots in the crowd whilst sipping her drink slowly. "I remember my name! It's Thomas!"

As soon as Alby repeated his name back to him excitedly the crowd erupted in cheers, celebrating the gain of the one memory that the creators allowed him to keep and rejoicing that Gally had been the one to help him find it. There were pats and more drinks passed around and it seemed that the evening was going to go well after that until a horrible screech erupted out of the maze walls. It was a screech that unfortunately set off a trigger in the she-bean's head, the full blast of the memories of the sounds hitting her at full force in her mind.

Inka let out a shrill cry in response to this, darting up off the log and dropping her drink on the sandy ground in sheer panic. Her breathing rate immediately picked up, heart pounding in her chest as she felt the indescribable urge to run. That terrible sound had been all she had heard all night in the maze at the beginning of her stay, and for some unnamed reason it was now so oddly familiar in her head and traumatic to hear. She could remember it from before she had come up in the box – she could remember the shrill screeches and clanking of it's horrible mechanical limbs as it tore after her in corridors she couldn't remember. She hardly realized that there was a loud ringing in her ears and shortness of breath in her lungs until her eyes focused on Newt's face before hers. She was panting, gasping for air as the color drained from her face and her eyes flew wide.

"Hey – Inka! Inka, listen!" He was gripping her arms steadily, holding her as she stumbled back in shock and tried to regain her attention. "Calm, alright? Calm. You're safe. Listen to me – listen to my voice."

It took a little bit for her to calm back down, at which point she realized that most of the boys were leaving to head off to bed and the only Gladers sticking behind were Alby, Minho and Jeff. Newt sat her down on the log and picked up the sandy jar she had spilt, emptying out the contents and tossing it to Jeff who placed it with the rest of the dirty dishes of the evening. Several of the boys eyed her warily as they passed her to go towards the homestead, knowing fully well that post traumatic stress due to a night in the maze was to be expected but still discomforted by her reaction. She could briefly hear words of 'memory', 'attention' and 'shock' coming from a voice that sounded familiar to Jeff's, which lead her to understand that she was truly in an altered state of mind.

"Wait," Inka managed to blurt out brokenly as Newt tried to lead her towards the homestead gently. "I remember that noise."

"That was a Griever," Newt reminded her softly, not knowing if she was still having her fit or not and not wanting to scare her. "You know what those are."

"No – I'm saying I remember it from before!" She struggled to look at Alby, eyes now wild and wide open. "I remember that sound!"

"You remember what a Griever sounds like?"

Inka wasn't sure who had asked that question as another rushing had taken over in her ears, and she stared off at one of the walls of the maze as if it would help her remember how she was getting this memory back. Even in her night in the maze she had not found the Griever's noises to be familiar, so it was quite a shock to be practically slapped in the face with a memory of such a caliber.

"Yes," She breathed, slumping to the ground and acknowledging that Alby had approached her and crouched in front of her form. She also felt Newt's warm hand brush up and down her back, providing a point of concentration so that she wouldn't panic once more. "Yes, I remember it – from before I came up. It's in my head from somewhere, I just can't..."

"Do you remember anything else?" Alby uttered after several seconds of her trailing off and watched as she took shallow breaths of air. After several seconds she shook her head and frowned slightly, then grasped her hair tightly and clenched her jaw in efforts to strain herself to remember.

"Don't push yourself – this is the first memory anyone has ever had," Newt murmured softly, and Alby's eyes snapped to his when he heard the tone his friend was using. The second in command clearly held a soft spot for the small girl, and the leader was not sure how he felt about it. Although protecting the sole woman in the Glade wasn't necessarily a bad thing, the two seemed to be naturally drawn to each other and Alby wanted to watch over that.

"Alright, we'll see what you remember in the morning," The leader understood that they were not going to pry any more answers from Inka's silence, causing him to make a strange face before standing up. "Let's tuck it in for the night."

* * *

"Has anyone tried climbing up to the top?"

Newt sighed. The greenie, who had recently been assigned to the Track-hoe department of the Glade after having failed miserably at all the other jobs that morning, had taken to questioning Newt incessantly about various alternate methods to escape the maze. The second in command was in no mindset to deal with his curiosity at the moment, as his mind was occupied with Inka's memory from the previous night and pondering what it could mean. He knew that Alby had the same questions, as he had held the girl back from running that day and allowed her to sleep in. Although Minho had been annoyed at losing his best runner for the day, he and the other runners all followed the same routine and managed without her for the afternoon. Nevertheless, Inka's memories were concerning, and he couldn't take his mind off her nor the fact that Alby was most likely going to try to force more thoughts out of her out of pure desperation of the fact that these were the first real memories any of the Gladers had ever experienced of the outside world. Newt did not particularly want to be distracted from his work the whole day, but he couldn't help himself when it came to the female Glader and Thomas' repetitive questions were not helping to lift his mood or distract him from the monster that was the maze.

"Tried it," Newt nearly spat out, the painful memories coming out to attack him once more upon the mention of the ivy that lined the inner walls of the Glade. "The ivy doesn't go all the way to the top. And besides, where are you going to go from there?"

"Well," Thomas frowned, gripping his shovel tightly. "What about the box? You know, next time it comes up you just jump -"

"No – we tried that," Newt interrupted him, attaching more plants to the wooden structure they had made for the plants that required shade to grow and trying to get the image of Nick's severed body - cut in half after he had tried to jump into the closing box - out of his head. "The box won't go back down with someone in it."

"Okay well, what if we -"

"No," The British boy interrupted Thomas harshly once more, not even wanting to hear his next suggestion. "We tried it, all right? _Twice._ Trust me. Anything you can think of, we've already tried. The only way out of here is through the maze."

Zart, who had been eavesdropping on the entire conversation from his spot on the ground where he had been planting seeds, shared a sympathetic look with Thomas. Newt's frustration bubbled over and he gripped a wooden basket beside him, throwing it towards the Glade's newest arrival.

"You want to make yourself useful?" His tone was tight and annoyed, causing Thomas to stare back at him in confusion. "Here, go dig us up some more fertilizer."

The boy took off, grumbling to himself in annoyance and obviously peeved based off of his lack of understanding about the functioning of the Glade. He could not understand the importance of digging up fertilizer and attaching trees to posts when there was a tantalizing doorway open that was possibly the entrance to their previous world. Zart knowingly grinned up towards Newt, who did not respond to his gesture and had taken to tying his knots rather viciously. Although the plants would not care in the end, the Keeper of the track-hoes could sense that something was bothering the British boy – and he had a slight inkling as to what it was. He did not say anything, however, and kept planting his fair share of seeds with a small smirk on his face. The rest of the afternoon, however, would change drastically for the worse. It was not long before a distant shouting was heard, coming closer by the second and clearly panicked.

"HELP!" Thomas' voice rang clear through the Glade, drawing the attention of both Newt and Zart who were closest to the treeline. "HELP!"

Suddenly, Ben and Thomas burst out of the treeline into the clearing, closest to Frypan's kitchen. Every boy nearby sprung into action, running towards the two wrestling boys on the ground and yelling in alarm.

"I'll kill you!" Ben was growling inhumanly, clawing at Newt's face and hissing in anger as soon as he managed to tackle him down. Thomas looked as though he was about to soil himself, squirming and gasping as the runner continued his assault on him. He was, in fact, about to get the upper hand again, until Newt ran up with a large stick and whacked him off of the poor defenseless greenie.

"Hold him down!" Newt commanded, pouncing on his friend with the help of Gally, Winston and several others.

"Calm down Ben," The Keeper of the builders growled, grabbing onto one of Ben's arms and holding it down to the ground.

"Ben! Stop it!" Zart admonished his friend, sitting on his legs so that they wouldn't squirm. This did not deter the insane boy however, who was viciously growling and struggling against their holds. It took Frypan's heavy hands to fully contain Ben, although he still struggled with a vigor the boys had never seen before.

"Calm down!" Newt reprimanded his friend as he tried his best to help pin him down, noticing the wild look in his eyes and imagining the worst. "What are you doing?!"

"Yo, what the hell happened?!" Fypan turned back to Thomas for answers, who was brushing himself off shakily as he stood.

"He just attacked me!" He checked himself for injuries and nodded in consolation as Chuck inquired as to his state, looking towards Ben in bewilderment like the rest of the boys. They had no idea what had come over the poor runner, who was now slightly dazed and was sporting a bloody injury on the side of his head most likely where Newt had managed to hit him with the stick.

Then, as if they had appeared out of nowhere, Inka and Alby emerged from the crowd of boys. Alby had a look of pure disbelief and concern on his face, threatened by the fact that a violent incident had clearly taken place despite his efforts to have the Glade remain a calm place. Inka sported a more confused look rather than anything else, looking around the circle at all the shocked faces and wondering what had happened. Newt caught her eyes for a split second and shook his head, silently warning her not to ask for the time being. She pressed her lips together, a grave frown marring her face and making the scar running across her nose move slightly. It was then that Newt realized, even as he was pinning down his out-of-control friend on what was probably the most off day he had had in the Glade for a long duration of time, that no matter what expression this girl made or how many scars she had she was still breathtaking.

"No!" Ben's desperate cry drew Newt's attention back to the scene at hand, and he tightened his clasp on his friend's arm. "No – no! Please! I didn't mean it!"

"All right," Alby sprung into action, pointing to Ben's shirt as he noticed the boy's eyes and immediately drawing the conclusion. "Lift his shirt."

"No!" The runner protested, but it did not stop Gally who gingerly lifted his shirt. "No, please!"

The mark on his stomach – a dark red and black hole with ugly purple veins running from it – was clearly infected and caused the circle of boys to gasp. Inka, who had never seen such a mark before, gasped in horror and in recognition. She knew that mark. She had seen it before, many times and much more up close. This time, although the process was still overwhelming and stressful, the memories flowed easier, and Inka took several shallow breaths to calm herself before speaking.

"He...he got stung..." She uttered, loud enough for several of the boys to face her suspiciously. Alby glared at her for several seconds, clenching his fist in anger at the events that were unfolding. He had to deal with not only a memory filled solitary she-bean who's brain power was cranking out memories at the most inconvenient of times, but also Ben – who had been stung in broad daylight – and the safety of his fellow Gladers. To have all those issues pile up in the moment was rather stressful, and Alby was growing upset.

"In the middle of the day?" Gally frowned, turning to face Alby with a doubtful expression on his face. Inka's expression followed suit as she leaned closer to her fellow runner to get a better look at the injury. She had most definitely seen this type of wound before, and she was viciously wracking her brain to try and figure out where even though she knew she wouldn't be able to come up with anything. The process was driving her mad; even last night she hadn't been able to sleep until the late hours because she had stayed up trying to mull over where she knew that horrid screeching sound from. To know something and not know why you knew it or where it came from was maddening right to the very core, and Inka was feeling this very much as she watched the boy struggle in front of her.

"Help me please," Ben was whimpering as he begged and pleaded with no on in specific, drawing the attention back to himself. "Please, please just help."

"Put him in the pit," Alby ordered, standing up and showing the boy no mercy. Despite the fact that he was stung Ben was a clear danger to the other Gladers, and the leader did not want to risk any more harm to his family. "Come on, everybody help. Take him to the pit!"

"No, no!" Ben grew violent again, lashing out at his friends pinning him down and trying his best to break free. "Please! Please don't do it!"

"Med-jack!" Newt called, beckoning Jeff to come forward to help out with his removal. Several of the boys did not move, shock coating their features and paralyzing their frames.

"Calm down, Ben!" Gally grunted as he tried to help in the efforts to contain the boy.

"Get off me!" The injured runner began to cry, his tone warped and sick. "Get off!"

"Please! No!" His cries began to fade off as the boys managed to carry him away, and Inka managed to catch Newt's dark eyes on more time before the group of boys trudged off towards the pit with Ben in tow. "You don't understand! Please stop, please! HE DID THIS! PLEASE STOP! HELP ME, PLEASE!"

Inka winced with each one of his screams as he was moved away from the scene, and the other boys – whilst still obviously frazzled and upset – began to disperse as well. She hardly remembered that Alby was standing beside her until she heard his voice checking to make sure that Thomas was alright. There was no doubt in the world that the greenie would have questions later, although for some obsolete reason Inka already knew what would happen to the boy.

"I need to talk with you," He pursed his lips, crossing his arms in the familiar fashion she had become acquainted to in the past month. "Now. In private."

She looked uncertainly behind her towards Thomas and Chuck, who both had helpless expressions on their faces. She knew that Alby's mood was going to be a sour one, especially since she had been allowed off her duties for the day and had not been able to come up with any answers as to her memories so far. She felt guilty and confused, but she knew that Alby couldn't blame her and was curious as to what else he could possibly want from her. Soon enough, however, she would find that it was nothing besides the same subject he had been prying about at mid-day when she had woken up. Her leader took her to the watch post and leaned against once of it's poles, eyeing her suspiciously once more as if she was voluntarily holding back the secrets locked inside of her mind by the creators.

"You need to think very hard about where you remember the Grievers from," He chose his words carefully, not wanting to threaten her but desiring to inform her of the nature of his request. "It doesn't make any sense to me why they would let your memories slip, especially when you're the fastest of us all and you don't want to stop running through that maze."

There was a beat of silence as Inka tried to process what he was saying.

"You're strange Inka," Alby clarified after it was clear that she was not responding. "Your brain doesn't seem to be the same. It's like they hard wired you differently when they sent you up here, and I don't think I like that."

She recoiled in offense, taking his comment badly.

"I don't mean it like that," The leader immediately reassured her. "I mean to say that I don't like what they did to you – I'm on your side here. They might have messed with you differently, understand? It's like every once in awhile it slips out information – bits and pieces that we can use as clues and that we were meant to hear from you."

The quiet girl frowned as she saw that there was a possibility her memories were coming back as tools for the Gladers to use, but for some reason she did not feel as though a higher power was controlling her thoughts.

"I don't think so," She admitted, trailing off gradually in her pondering. "It feels like whoever did this couldn't get to the part of my brain that holds these memories. You know? Sort of like post-traumatic stress."

"And the Griever sting?" Alby immediately questioned, his tone having changed from tense to calming. "What kind of memories did that bring back?"

"I can't explain it," She grumbled, slumping against a wooden beam herself and massaging her temples. "I really can't – I just know that I've seen it before. It's replaying in my head...I just can't remember where or why."

She grunted pathetically, plastering a hand over her face and shutting her eyes to try and concentrate. Alby said nothing, watching her as she struggled to remember the pictures in her head and what they were connected to. He did not want to interrupt her process, even when he heard his name being called by a voice that was worryingly familiar to Jeff's.

"I know it gets worse," Inka breathed suddenly, shaking her head at the fact that she had not been able to gather any more information. "I know it's an infection, and I know only the Grievers can do that. Why do I know that?"

Alby let her ponder once again, not stopping her as she walked off into the distance and completely ignored him. He did not call her back, nor try to interrupt her and give her a command. She trailed further and further away, mumbling to herself and trying to piece together whatever information she had before she stopped in front of the forest and settled herself down on a log. It was at this point that the leader turned away and headed towards the direction of Jeff's cries, reminding himself to let Newt know where she was. Although he wasn't sure how he felt about the two Brits obviously being comfortable around each other, he accepted that Newt was best at calming her down and communicating with her and he did not want to jeopardize the flow of possible information.

* * *

That afternoon, it was decided that after a period of unsuccessful questioning and some obvious mental/physical decline, Ben would be banished.

Newt had felt his heart sink at the news, knowing that a banishing had not taken place in years thanks to Alby's good leadership and his enforcement of the rules. Of course, none of them had known that a Griever was loose in the maze during daylight hours and had somehow stung one of their runners, and there likely wouldn't have been an obvious prevention strategy if they had known somehow. Newt didn't know what this sign meant – he only knew that things had changed drastically after Inka and Thomas' arrival and were likely to continue changing. He didn't know how he felt about this, but was sure of the fact that after three years whoever had placed them here had most likely expected them to get out by this point. He wanted to leave simply because he wanted to be free and see the truth about his previous life, but he also saw the bigger picture in the scenario he had been unfortunately placed in and recognized that there were bigger fish to fry if the world was cruel enough to force people like him into a synthetic paradise. Even now, as he gathered alongside the other Gladers – several of which, specifically the Keepers and himself, were armed with large rarely used banishing sticks shaped like large letter 'T's – he realized that he did not need to just find answers for himself, but for all the boys who had been subjected to this fate. This included Ben, who was currently being led towards the maze doors by Minho and pulling against his rope restraints.

"Just listen to me," Ben growled at his running partner, who stayed stoic and emotionless as his defense against the emotions he was most likely feeling at the moment. "Just, please, listen to me! Please...Minho!"

The other runner paid him no heed and instead cut his hands free before tossing a bag of rations into the first corridor of the Northern passage into the maze. He then looked back at his infected hacking friend as if he was the saddest sight he had ever seen, and gave his leader a glance. Alby looked just as pained, holding a grimace on his face Inka knew she wouldn't be able to shake from her mind. Then, he nodded once.

"No, no, please," Ben continued saying, his begs turning to sobs. "Please don't, please don't do it – please!"

Inka stood near the side of the group, gripping her own sharpened stick uselessly and instead pathetically watching Ben as he drew nearer to his fate. He was visibly trembling and very weak, covered in deep purple veins that had spread to his face and consumed his eyes. Even when Alby commanded that the poles be readied and pushed against Ben, forcing him into the maze, she could not bring herself to form any other expression on her face besides one of pain. To see the Gladers dooming one of their one and forcing him to a bloody exile was quite possibly the most gruesome thing she had seen so far in her short lived life.

"No! No please – no I can get better!" Ben cried, sobbing and weakly attempting to push away the poles that were being shoved against him. "Please! Just listen to me! You don't understand!"

Inka drew a shaky breath gripped her stick tighter and still refusing to push. She did not agree with his banishment, and believed that more information could be gotten out of him instead of inhumanely throwing him to the 'dogs'. It was not Ben's fault that he had attacked Thomas, nor was it the Glader's fault for not knowing any better. There really wasn't a good reason for his banishing besides the safety of the people in the Glade, but even then it was possible to contain him for a long period of time even if he did die eventually. Inka would have preferred him die painfully around his friends instead of alone and quite possibly tortured in the maze, so she refused to take part in the cruel activity. She believed that she was doing rather well emotionally until Ben suddenly turned to her, eyes wide and inhuman.

"YOU! I saw you!" He shrieked, trying to clamber over to her amidst the sea of poles. The girl recoiled immediately, trying to back away but realizing that her limbs were frozen in fear. "They made you run! They wanted this to be you - that's why you're here! Please – Inka please! LISTEN!"

"Back off!" Newt shouted as he shoved Ben back into place, wanting to end his furious ramblings. He did not know what the boy was trying to tell her, but it was not getting him out of the banishing. A furious expression took over his face for a split second as he saw the effects of the ex-runners words on Inka, but he cleared it once more as the Keepers used whatever emotional strength left they had to push Ben further into the closing doors.

"I'll get better!" Ben continued sobbing, forced into the walls that were shutting closed and trapping him away from the only community he had known so far. "No, no, no! No, no..."

He was forced further and further into the walls until, with a final agonizing scream, the doors slammed shut and Ben was sacrificed to the maze. Inka let out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding in, and realized that there were tears wetting her cheeks at an alarming rate. Her sobs were silent, quietly wracking her body as Alby made his announcement that Ben now belonged to the maze. She hung her head low and let the tears fall, not wanting to think about what her ex-running partner had been screaming about. There was a reason behind her arrival, her speed and her memories – that much she was aware of – but she did not know why there would have been a reason for her familiarity with the Grievers nor did she want to think about it for the time being. It wasn't until the Gladers had begun to clear the area in front of the Northern entrance that Newt stuck behind to coax her out of her state, trying to gently pry the sharp stick stuck in her hands. He succeeded after several moments, wordlessly tossing it to the side and guiding her with one hand on her wrist and another on her back.

"There's got to be a reason..." She murmured, so soft he barely heard it. "What did he mean?"

"We'll talk about it later," Newt's familiar accent soothed her, causing her shoulders to droop as he led her to dinner. "I promise."

As it turned out, they would not get to speak of the subject that night. Dinner was silent and sullen, and the boys were all barely touching their meals. Inka sat squished between Newt and Minho, playing with her food and occasionally sniffling as she tried to puzzle out Ben's words in her brain. Banishing one of their own after so long had clearly struck home for the Gladers, and it was clear that everyone wanted to get to bed to try and forget about the day. It was then, when all the Gladers were gathered in the homestead later that night after the horrid dinner, that Inka began to hear a distant clacking. Gally had disappeared with two boys several minutes ago, but she did not figure out exactly what he was doing until she put two and two together and realized that he was crossing out Ben's name on the wall. Alby was up as well – as Inka briefly noted when she sat up to watch one of the lanterns – staring dejectedly out into the night as if for one night he had completely given up hope. She felt for him and the rest of the Gladers as well as herself on a very deep level, and swore to herself once more that she would try with everything she had to remove herself from this glorified holding pen.

"Do you think he might make it?" Inka heard Thomas' voice ask from somewhere in the distance. She could barely make out his and Chuck's silhouettes by the firelight a ways away, but her hearing was exceptional enough to hear their voices quite well.

"No," Chuck sighed, surprisingly unemotional for a boy of his age especially after what he had seen. "No one survives a night in the maze."

"Inka survived," The greenie shot back, causing Inka to hold her breath. She could practically hear the challenge in his voice.

"Yeah well," Chuck sighed, shifting around in his bunk. "Inka's weird."

The girl almost snorted playfully at the young boy's remark, but managed to stay silent during the pregnant pause. She hoped the conversation was not over just yet.

"What do you think he meant when he was saying all those things?" Thomas asked, obviously talking about Ben and his insane ramblings earlier.

"I don't know," Chuck's response was brief and felt somewhat closing, as if he did not want to talk about the subject anymore but was too polite to admit it. "I left before I heard anything."

It was then that Thomas gave up the questions, choosing to bid Chuck a goodnight and leaving a very frustrated Inka to try and riddle out what Ben had meant when he had said that he had seen her. More importantly, why had he been talking about a 'they'? And why had 'they' made her run? It could not have been the Gladers – he would not have talked about them that way or would have at least shown some anger towards them when he did – and the only other option was the creators, so she assumed it was the latter. She wasn't sure how it was possible that they had _made_ her run, especially since it had been her own decision to make a dash for the maze when she first arrived and risk her neck. And she certainly was not sure why 'they' would have wanted a Griever sting for her, although it seemed sort of counterproductive that the same labels that existed on their food and shelter supplies were stamped on the beasts set out to eat them alive. Eventually, she put herself to sleep with all of the thoughts in her brain, one overlapping the other until her fatigue consumed her and she could no longer focus on one thought at a time.

Unbeknownst to her, the British boy laying two cots away from her had the exact same thoughts running through his head, his mind just as equally fatigued as he plagued himself trying to think of answers for their situation all the while struggling to understand why he was so drawn to the tiny British she-bean.


	6. More

**More**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.**

It was barely sunrise, and the Maze's doors had already clanked open. Most of the Gladers had grown used to the sound and slept right through it, however Minho, Alby and Newt were already positioned at the Northern doors. Unbeknownst to the rest of the sleeping boys, the three had risen early and gotten ready without waking their friends so that they could start their mission with no disturbances. It had been established that Newt was to be in charge for the day, and was to deliver the information that no other runners were to leave the Glade that day besides Minho and Alby. Newt was also put in charge of containing Inka, who without a doubt would protest this temporary rule and be upset about the fact that the two had gone off to look for Ben's location – or possible remains – without taking anyone else with them. As it turned out, their assumptions were correct. As soon as the wake up call was given, Newt announced to the group of quite groggy boys – and one very sleepy girl – that Alby and Minho were going to be absent for the day due to the fact that they were retracing Ben's footsteps before he had gotten stung.

"What?" Inka had darted out of her bunk in a matter of seconds, reaching for her pack she stored underneath the cot and quickly suiting up. "That's bloody insane. I'm going in."

"No," Newt stopped her, fully expecting this kind of response. "Please – it's not safe, Inka."

"It's never safe," She growled, a fire lighting behind her eyes as she challenged his dominance, not recognizing it as protection.

"You're not going," The second in command ordered firmly, towering over her frame as his eyes darkened considerably. "That's a direct order from Alby – and from me."

She stumbled back slightly, blinking rapidly as if he had offended her in some way, before scoffing and bumping past him rudely. He didn't hear what she muttered when she walked out the door of the homestead, but he could vaguely make out her distinct grumblings. He did not think much of it, however, and moved to continue waking the rest of his friends. As soon as the boys were up he instructed Zart to monitor her, assuring his friend that he would be with the Track-hoes momentarily after checking to make sure that Chuck knew what his slopper duties were for the day. Newt didn't trust Inka not to go running off into the maze herself, as he knew her and her tendencies quite well at this point. She had an insatiable desire to help the situation the Gladers were in, even if it meant risking her own safety – and Newt's mental well-being, for that matter. Inka could be upset with him all she wanted, just as long as she was safe in the enclosure that was the Glade until Alby and Minho figured out exactly what was causing the Grievers to come out during the day. Newt didn't know how long they would be, so he prepared the entire day around their absence just in case and headed to the fields to regroup with the Keeper of the track-hoes as soon as he could.

"How's she doing?" Newt asked Zart as soon as he spotted the boy trucking off towards the water pump. He didn't bother to ask for specifics, considering Inka was the only girl and it was obvious that she was frustrated.

"See for yourself," The Keeper of the track-hoes chuckled, continuing on his way. Puzzled, Newt carried on towards the area where Zart had been scheduled to collect more wood off of damaged trees in the Glade. What met his sight was a very obviously upset Inka who had taken to violently chopping the base of the tree with all her might, which was a sight to be seen considering her tiny stature. It was almost comical, especially when Newt spotted Thomas and Chuck on an abandoned log several feet away, wood carvings completely forgotten as they stared open-mouthed at the raging girl before them.

"Stupid...slinty-whatever...incorrigible..." Newt nearly grinned as he heard her attempts at chanted curses, and quietly neared her position. "Shucky shuckhead...BOYS!"

She cried with a particularly rough slam of her machete, impaling it into the log and grunting out in frustration. Upon turning around to undoubtedly go take her anger out on another poor defenseless heap of nature, she jumped about a foot in the air and let out a shrill yelp when she came face to face with Newt, who looked rather amused.

"Having fun there, love?" His cheeky grin set her off once more, and she grimaced.

"You can take your stupid rules and shove them," She growled. "What if your friends don't come back? Huh?"

"They'll come back," Newt assured her, straightening his face once more when he realized that her anger was still obviously palpable.

"What if they come back like Ben?" She narrowed here eyes, pushing her British partner. "Huh? What about that? Wouldn't it be nice to know that there's more of us running about to protect each other rather than just _two_?!"

"Not if it means more bodies," Newt replied honestly, picking up his own machete and beginning to chop away at the wood, hoping to distract her back into work. "We can't risk losing anyone else."

"So what?!" Inka spluttered, some of her anger fading. "You send out your best and strongest without any protection?"

"Alby knows what he's doing," Newt gazed at her, stopping his efforts for moment and reminding himself to be patient with her. "Have faith in him, alright? He just wants to keep us safe."

This seemed to deflate the anger inside of the girl, as she realized that she did not want to go against these boys wishes to keep her safe especially considering the fact that she had built positive relations with them up to this point. She was helping them, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to help them if they did not trust her first. Building trust required her to respect rules so that they would listen to what she had to say, and this did not happen from rebelling. So, she picked up her machete, muttered a soft apology to a very surprised Newt who openly stared at her, and continued chopping with a much calmer persona. When Zart came back he nearly fell over his own two feet, and looked towards Newt with an expression of disbelief that the second in command had once again managed to calm the she-bean down. Newt seemed to be the only person Inka truly listened to.

"Calm after the storm, eh?" He teased, noticing how Inka rolled her eyes and let a small smile grace her lips when she heard Newt's chuckle of laughter.

"Slim it," Newt muttered, the tips of his ears turning pink.

"Sorry guys, but why would Alby go into the maze?" Thomas suddenly blurted from his spot beside Chuck two feet away. He had heard the ordeal between Inka and Newt, and was rather curious especially after having seen Alby and Minho disappear into the maze that morning himself. "I mean, he's not a runner."

"Things are different now," Newt explained, watching as Zart replaced his machete for a shovel and began to collect soil. "Alby went to retrace Ben's footsteps before sundown – look, are you going to help?"

The British boy squinted up towards Thomas, who was still sitting on the log and clearly much preferred pondering the maze and who was in it as opposed to chipping in around the Glade.

"Okay, so he's gonna go back to where Ben was just stung -" Thomas ignored Newt's subtle hint to get off his arse and work, and the second in command grew frustrated.

"Alby knows what he's doing, all right?" Newt held his machete out towards the greenie while he made his point. "He knows better than any of us."

He was suddenly interrupted as Inka grunted in what seemed to be pain, and he turned to her to find that she had grasped a stubborn piece of root with her hands and was tugging on it. The action sort of reminded him of a dog with it's chew toy somehow, and he let out a small chuckle despite the tense conversation he was having. The situation was almost comical; Inka using her entire body weight to try and fruitfully win the battle with the dead tree. Quickly reaching down to assist her, he enveloped Inka's small hands within his own warm ones and both of them tugged on the root until it gave out. The result knocked the tiny girl onto her backside, and he grinned at that as well before helping her back up. She thanked him sheepishly, almost feeling foolish that she had tried so hard for such a difficult task. If it had not been for the large pieces of wood that splintered with the root and made it easier for her to chop away, her efforts would have been pointless.

"What does that mean, 'he knows better than any of us'?" Thomas resumed the conversation seconds later after the incident, much to Newt's annoyance. He chopped at the spot that Inka had freed before explaining the process to Thomas, who he was really hoping would shut up and come help at some point or another.

"All right, it's like you've heard, yeah?" He began to explain from the beginning. "Every month, the box sends up a new arrival. But in the beginning they all came in one big batch. Alby was part of that group – Nick and George were a couple others."

Thomas tensed, remembering the name he had found on the tombstone in the deadheads before Ben had attacked him.

"They would have had to have spent a whole month in the Glade," Newt continued, chopping away again. "Wondering what the bloody hell was going on, and trying to figure things out. It was pure chaos. Everyone was running into the maze left and right, and a lot of boys were lost. Then when the box started coming up monthly and Alby took charge, things started evening out."

He paused again to chop away more wood, not wanting to leave Zart alone and Inka alone in the work they had been doing.

"Either way," He kept talking after twenty seconds of silence, realizing that Zart, Chuck and Inka were listening as well. "Alby taught us that the most important thing is that we all have each other. 'Cause we're all in this together – we're all we have."

At his words, Inka stopped for a moment and acknowledged that this was the sole reason she had turned around in the maze and was determined to go back and help those boys. She was certain that if she had kept going she would have made it out far, but the civilization in the place she had come up in looked so closed off and contained that she couldn't help herself. She knew that she had been placed there for a reason and despite her fears about it, she had headed back with a sole thought in mind; to help these boys leave this dreaded place they had been stuck in for so long. Inka continued chopping after a moment, and vaguely noted that Thomas had gotten up and begun to help as well – apparently inspired by Newt's little speech. The day, however, did not continue to increase in positivity, and unfortunately got worse as the hours went by. Shortly after Thomas joined their working circle there was a rumble in the distance. It took awhile for the Gladers to understand, but as soon as they realized what was going on most of them ran for cover. Inka, on the other hand, was not so quick to leave her post.

"Rain!" Inka's eyes widened as she looked up at the sky, smiling brightly at the first positive thing that had happened today. "It's raining!"

"Yeah..." Newt scrunched his face up, a slight grin lighting up his face when he realized how excited she was about it. "Why? Do you like it?"

"I think I used to like it," She slid her machete back into the back pocket of her pack, enjoying the feeling of the droplets of water hitting her skin as they slowly made their way towards an enclosure. " I remember this feeling..."

He didn't say anything in response, instead choosing to look down at her curiously as they walked.

Unfortunately, upon their arrival in one of the main enclosures, Thomas' questions brought down her mood. The greenie was questioning Minho and Alby's return, mentioning that they should have been back by this point and voicing his concerns about whether or not they were going to make it. The other boys watched the Northern Gates anxiously, hope visibly etches onto their features but fading minute by minute. Inka, who was grasping one of the large support beams and staring at the entrance to the maze intensely herself, debating making a run for it but decided against it when she acknowledged how mentally damaging it would be to all the boys she would leave behind. Newt seemed to refuse the fact that it was possible for Alby and Minho not to make it back, as his statements proved, and he continued to assure the greenie that the two were going to return. Inka found that this was his way of maintaining hope and keeping composure; refusing the option of failure in an extreme case. Unfortunately, deep down inside he most likely knew that there was a chance they wouldn't come back, but he was adamantly denying it due to the fact that he did not want to accept the possibility of losing two very important people in his life in that moment.

Around an hour later, after waiting for the rain to stop and realizing that the time was drawing near for the maze doors to close, the Gladers crowded around the Northern door with rapidly growing concern. Inka stood near the center of the crowd shielded by Newt, who had a bad feeling about her intentions in case the running pair did not show up. She had a habit to be brash and make decisions on the spot – as she had displayed very well in her first several days in the Glade – so he wanted to make sure that she did not dart off in the case of an emergency.

"Can't we send someone after them?" Thomas was clearly nervous, as he was bobbing back and forth from one foot to another and could not stay still.

"It's against the rules," Gally answered him from his crouched position near the ground, which was surprisingly relaxed and calm. "Either they make it back or they don't."

Inka glared at the boy, fighting a war in her head that was telling her to make a break for it and hold herself back at the same time. She hated that there was no back up plan, she hated that someone had had the power to subject these poor people to this, and she hated the fact that there was a good chance at the moment that Alby and Minho were going to be lost to the maze.

"Can't risk losing anyone else," Newt added, fixing Thomas with a stern gaze. He then faced Inka with the same expression, but found that she stared back at him with the exact same amount of frustration he had built up inside of him. Suddenly, the familiar creaking began, and the maze doors began their daily routine of closing as ominously and loudly as possible. Many of the boys stared up at the terrifying structure in horror, looking even more desperately down the corridor as they watched for Alby and Minho's forms to come jogging around the corners.

It took five seconds until the two showed themselves.

As soon as Inka saw Minho's form rounding the corner, she knew something had gone horribly wrong. Alby's unconscious body was being supported solely by the Keeper of the runners, who looked as though he was going to collapse at any moment. The Gladers watched, open mouthed in horror, as the unconscious body of their leader was pathetically supported by Minho's significantly smaller fatigued frame. Not thinking, Inka tried to dart past Newt and Gally to make it inside and help the two boys, but her British counterpart – who had been expecting something like this – managed to grab her by the waist just in time and held her in a tight hold with the help of the Keeper of the builders. Thomas stared at her in surprise, watching as she fought against their grip.

"Hey!" She cried out, struggling against their iron holds, bewildered by their actions. "Hey, get off! Are you blind?! GET OFF! HELP THEM!"

"They're not gonna make it," Newt spat out bitterly, watching as the Keeper of the runners friend struggled with their leader. Inka gaped at him, furious that he wasn't even acknowledging her words. It was as if all of these boys had some sort of barricade stuck in their minds that prevented them from helping the situation

"You've got to leave him!" Zart cried out to Minho, crouching down near the ground as the rest of the boys began to yell.

"Come on Minho, you can make it!" Chuck's shouts were drowned out by the other boy's cries of encouragement and panic, and the girl stuck in the arms of the boys shouted just as loud when she realized just how desperately she needed to assist Minho in that moment. Ironically enough, the only people she had come back to help were the only things holding her back, and this only made her thrash more violently.

Inka squirmed even harder upon realizing that the maze doors were closing far too fast for Minho and Alby to get there on time, and cried out in fear for her running partner. She did not want them to be locked away for a night in the maze, and knew that if anything she could do a better job protecting Alby alongside Minho. He was not going to survive in there if he didn't leave the body behind, and if he waited for too long it was possible that Alby could become conscious and violent. The fact of the matter was that she knew what terrors lay in spending a night in the maze, and the walls were closing further and further by the second. She nearly thought that she was going to have to break one of the rules to get away from Gally and Newt long enough to jump into the maze, but suddenly there was a movement from her right and Thomas darted forward. Newt, having been preoccupied with holding Inka back, only reached an arm out to try and stop the new arrival from moving in, but was too late.

"No, no, no, NO, NO!" Inka cried as the doors slammed shut behind Thomas, sealing the three boys into the stone death trap for the night. "NO!"

It was then that she managed to twist away from the holds of her capturers, flipping around to face them in disbelief and agony.

"WHY?!" She gasped, furiously spitting at Newt and Gally. "Do you have any idea what it's like to spend a night in there?! I'm a runner – YOU CHOSE ME TO DO THAT!"

"We couldn't risk it," Gally tried to argue, mimicking Newt and holding a hand out to calm her down. "This is to keep you safe!"

"I c-could have helped!" She cried, shoved the boys hands away, letting her sobs shake her body. "I w-would have helped! You – you awful, t-terrible people! Why do you have these s-stupid rules?! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"

She was screaming hysterically at this point, pointing back towards the maze and panting wildly as the tears flowed freely down her cheeks. There was no worse feeling in the world, as she was discovering just now, than the feeling of helplessness. Newt could not utter a reply as he watched at her outburst with sympathy, not knowing how to console the girl this time considering he had been part of the problem. Gally seemed shocked if anything at the sight of her heightened emotions, and chose to quietly usher the rest of the solemn Gladers away from the door. When he turned back towards Inka and Newt, he found that she had sunken to the ground and taken to pounding at it in anger. The second in command still hadn't moved, and at this point Gally couldn't do anything but stay put in case he needed help to move the she-bean. The Keeper of the builders took pity on her strong emotions, finding himself particularly moved by her desire to help her friends. Nevertheless however, there were still rules set in place that needed to be followed to keep the Gladers safe – if he and Newt had not held Inka back the casualties in the maze could have been four instead of three that night. And for some reason Gally knew that if the Glade lost the little female British spitfire, much hope would be gone.

"I would have helped," She muttered weakly, voice muffled from her place on the ground in a child's position where she clutched at her short strands of scruffy hair. It was a couple seconds before Newt realized that all the boys had settled themselves a ways away, sitting down on the wet ground and refusing to move. It was a physical lament to mourn their losses of the moment, he acknowledged, and he did not protest or request for them to shift their position.

They stayed that way until night fell, not making a noise or movement unless it was to shift to scratch an itch or to brush a tear away. Eventually, when they did move to settle into more comfortable positions to sleep on the dewy grass, Newt made his way over to where Inka had been laying – in the same vulnerable position – for hours. He had regarded her silently every now and then up to that point, and was growing more and more guilty by the second even though he knew that he had done the right thing. There was no knowing if she would have been able to survive a second night in the maze, and he did not want to risk her – or any of the other boys – lives. Although it sounded terrible, it was better to lose three than any more.

She did not react when he placed a hand on her back at first, feeling a slight tingle when her spine came into contact with his palm. He began to stroke meticulously, not knowing why at first but then realizing that it had come from a place of knowledge. Previous knowledge – one that he had held in his mind locked away somewhere in a large box alongside the rest of his memories and splattered in mental graffiti that the creators had most likely tainted with.

It was then that Newt realized he was having his first real memory.

It was not a flashback or a dream or anything of that sort, but he was remembering a specific action that was soothing, and it was working. Inka's muscles un-tensed, and although he was not certain if she was sleeping or not, he continued his action because it was the only thing he was certain about in that moment. The only thing he concentrated on was the feeling of her spine, the material of her shirt, and her breathing that matched with his own. He knew, far away in a corner of his brain, that this action had taken place before in a strand of time that no longer existed in his mind; erased, like everything else but his name. His breaths seemed to grow heavier and heavier by the second as the whole feeling and physical memory of his particular comforting action consumed him. Even though the bridge that linked to the answer as to why he was so familiar with this type of closeness was missing, he continued to strive for it. It was the most infuriating thing, knowing that the answer was somewhere out there floating in the realm of his lost memories; so close yet so far. He now knew why Inka was so frustrated with her brain as well – it was because the answers were right there on their fingertips, but at the cruel hands of the creators they were ungraspable.

Newt moved to lay beside her after a short while, finding himself utterly exhausted after such a stressful and strenuous day and wanting to sleep to recuperate his mental strength. He did not cease the movement of his arm until he felt all of her back relax, and it was only then after he himself began to drift off to sleep that his arm moved to rest against her thigh. That was the way they woke the next morning, still connected and not having moved. Inka lifted her head groggily when Newt's hand twitched against her thigh, and her eyes darted open to assess her surroundings. The flashbacks of the previous day came to haunt her immediately, pounding the message into her head to get up and go check if the doors had opened yet. Newt was still asleep, facial muscles relaxed and angelic despite the small frown his brows displayed. His comforting touches had helped her relax last night, and she felt as though the familiar actions were like a bell that rang out in the dark. She regarded him for a moment, finding that although all her anger towards him and Gally had dissipated overnight, she was both emotionally and physically exhausted.

Despite her state however, she managed to rise silently and glumly walk over to the Northern doors where she waited in absolute silence for them to begin to open. She stood for what seemed to be the better part of an hour, watching the stone wall with as much hatred as she could possibly muster until it finally gave a small creak. It was then that she heard the rest of the boys begin to wake, disturbed by the rising sunlight and the rushing of memories reminding them of what had happened last night. They quickly crowded around the entrance, eyes darting around the corridor to search uselessly for the boys they knew were most likely dead. Inka had half a mind to dart in once again, but reconsidered when she thought about the impact that it would have on the community if one other person sacrificed themselves in the darkest hour.

"I told you Chuck," Newt looked down at the younger boy with sympathy as the corridor stayed silent, trying not to let his despair seep through his features. "They're not coming back."

Inka placed a comforting hand on Chuck's shoulder as he turned around to look at all the boys beginning to retreat back to their posts for the day, desperate for some kind of consolation. The only thing she could give him was her presence, so the two turned back towards the maze and stood separate from the others. Newt was about to coax Inka back towards the fields when he heard Chuck's sudden gasp, and when his eyes flitted back towards the maze they were wide open.

It was Thomas and Minho, and they were both supporting Alby's body as they slowly made their way towards the exit of the maze.

Without thinking, Inka dashed forwards whilst the other boys began to cheer, quickly replacing Minho's body with her own as he looked as though he was about to collapse. The oriental boy grunted as Inka took over, stumbling alongside her whilst she pulled their leader to safety. Her unparalleled relief gave her a large boost of energy, positivity flowing through her veins at the fact that the boys had survived the night. Although Alby was heavy, she managed to support his taller frame and assist Thomas for the last several feet of their journey until they finally crossed over into the grassy Glade.

"Easy easy," The other boys immediately reached their arms out, beginning to assist with the injured leader.

"I got him," Newt took Alby from Inka's grasp and helped set him down onto the ground. "I got him."

"What happened out there?" Questions were immediate as the boys, who began to crowd even thicker around the incident.

"How'd you guys make it out?"

At first, there was no answer from the panting boys – but as soon as the Gladers spotted the sting mark on Alby's chest they looked up at the two runners in horror.

"You saw a Griever?" Chuck questioned, eyes flashing as he looked towards Thomas.

"Yeah," Thomas nodded, looking around the circle of boys uncertainly. "I saw one."

"He didn't just see one," Minho added, meeting Inka's eyes. "He killed it."

There was a momentary silence as they all looked towards him in shock before turning to Inka. Thomas met her eyes and the two shared an uneven gaze, knowing that at one point or another the whole situation would have to be addressed.

"Another one?" Newt looked between the two, nerves bouncing in his stomach. The situation was getting worse and worse; it was almost as if some invisible force was causing situations to try and push them to leave the only safe zone they had known for all these years.

Although the second in command did not receive a response to his question, he ordered for Alby's body to be shipped to the med-jack hut and called and immediate, mandatory meeting. He hated the fact that it was his responsibility to be in charge but knew that these steps were necessary to help figure out what to do; they needed a leader and it was his responsibility to fit that role when the situation demanded it. As of right then and there, the situation required for him to listen to Minho's recollection of the story as well as the other boys' – plus Inka, who had a fairly large voice in this considering she had been the only other Glader to see or kill a Griever – reactions and decide the appropriate measures to take. Unfortunately, several of the boys did not enjoy the story that Minho had told.

"Things are changing," Gally interrupted the chatter of the boys as soon as the oriental runner had finished talking. "There's no denying that. First, we get a crazy she-bean shipped up to us for no reason who runs amuck and kills a Griever, second we get Grievers stinging in broad daylight, and third we get our lovely greenie running into the maze just because he feels like it."

Gally gave Inka a pointed glare, one which she returned whole heartedly. If he decided to blame her for the incident in some way shape or form, so be it. But she knew that figuring out the answers to this problem lay in the maze, and if Gally wanted to live here for the rest of his life he could ignore that fact. There was no denying the reality of the situation, and she was glad that her eyes were open.

"Unlike this one," Gally continued, motioning to Inka who shifted closer to Newt in discomfort. "Thomas knew the rules. This is a clear violation of them."

"Yeah," Frypan muttered from his place behind Inka. "But he saved Alby's life."

"Did he?" Gally questioned, reminding all the boys of their leaders current state. He was not going to survive for long, and although he had already been stung when Minho had tried to bring him back into the Glade it was not Thomas' fault that Alby was on his deathbed at the moment. "Listen – I've said this before, and I'll say it again. For three years, we have coexisted with these things. Now, we've killed _two_ of them. Who knows what this could mean for us?"

"They tried to kill me - they tried to kill Thomas _and_ Minho!" Inka protested, blurting out before she could stop herself due to the anger that had built up inside of her after hearing the same repeated words. Gally turned to glare at her some more, but she continued to speak and matched his expression. "That isn't coexisting! These things are there to stop us from trying to run!"

"What would you suggest we do, Gally?" Newt spoke coolly from his spot leaning on one of the wooden beams that supported the gathering hut. His tone was slightly condescending, as if he was testing the Keeper of the builders to see how he reacted.

"He has to be punished," Gally shook his head and spread his arms, as if his opinion was the most obvious thing in the world. The Gladers erupted in stead of the suggestion, spouting out how he had helped the situation instead of hurt it and killed one of the harmful beasts.

"Minho," Newt ignored the chatter of the boys in the hay seats, instead choosing to regard his friend. Inka gave him a side glance, wondering how he was managing to hold his composure for this long without blowing his top. "You were in there with him. What do you think?"

Minho sighed before speaking, regarding both Inka and Thomas evenly.

"I think..." He began, stepping forward slightly and looking towards Thomas. "That in all the time we've been here, no one has ever killed a Griever – or two for that matter – before. When I turned tail and ran, this dumb shank stayed behind to help Alby – and the first day Inka was here she saw that the maze was the only way out. And _both_ of 'em risked their lives to help us. I don't know if these two are brave or stupid, but whatever it is we need more of it."

There was a beat of silence as the boys looked towards the two trouble makers who had changed so much in their short time in the Glade.

"We saw the exact same pattern with Inka," Minho pointed to the female runner who gazed at him with respect, happy that he was retaining a dosage of realism despite the heightened emotions that surrounded him. "And she found the first shucking clue in three years – so let's not make a mistake here. I say we make Thomas a runner too."

The boy in question snapped his gaze back to the Keeper of the runners, who met his stare evenly and nodded once.

"A runner?" Winston scoffed, not wanting to accept that yet another greenie had been recruited that fast. "What?"

"Minho," Frypan cut in, ignoring Newt's slight grin as he looked towards his best friend. "Let's not jump the gun here all right?"

"Inka?" Newt turned to her to ask for her opinion and causing a silence to fall over the gathering hut. "You're the only other who's survived a night in the maze and killed a Griever. What do you have to say?"

It took her a minute to respond as she furrowed her brows, the gears turning in her head.

"I think it was risky," She admitted, chastising herself for the comment when she saw Thomas' face fall slightly. "But I would have done the same if these two hadn't been holding me back."

She motioned towards Newt and Gally – one of which who was giving her a very discontent look that would have had her dead on the floor in seconds if looks could kill – and then continued.

"It's not fair to punish someone who just wanted to help – Minho might not have survived if it wasn't for Thomas, so I agree with him."

Minho allowed a small smile to coat his features as soon as the words left her mouth, and Inka found herself smiling back. They knew the changes that were taking place and they knew that they were one step closer to finding a way out, which meant that the arrival of the greenie and his capability to survive was a directly positive placement into their society. He had saved three lives including his own in a night in the maze, and both Inka and Minho recognized that that was a skill that did not come up often in the supply box.

"We put Inka in the pit when she tried to run, remember? She hurt Alby too - why is this any different?" Gally defended his logic and cut the chatter once more, holding his arms up as an expression of innocence. Inka snorted, crossing her arms and shaking her head in disappointment. It made no sense to punish the boy who had clearly helped Minho survive and get Alby back, even though he had put himself at risk to do the task.

There was a chorus of shouts and yells as the Gladers disagreed with him, trying to push the Keeper of the builders to go easier on the greenie.

"If you want to throw the newbie a parade that's fine," Gally cut in angrily, clearly frustrated that no one had seen it from his perspective. "Go ahead. But if there is one thing that I know about the maze, it is that you do _not_ -"

Suddenly, he was interrupted by a large buzzing noise that echoed in the Glade, causing all the boys to look at each other in confusion. Inka, who was rather startled by it, heard several muttering that 'the box was not supposed to come up before the end of the month'. She knew about it's pattern, but did not understand why it was such an alarm until she caught an eyeful of Newt's concerned glance. It was then that she began to follow the large flow of boys with worry, running towards the only metal contraption in the Glade and reaching it alongside Gally. The bellowing buzzer did not stop ringing until the cage doors opened, and Inka quickly helped to assist Gally in opening one of the doors she had exited from herself not nearly two months ago. What she saw when she gazed inside of it shocked her for a good second or two.

It was another girl.

She quickly jumped down inside before any of the boys could recover from their surprise, eager to try and assist one of her kind, but quickly realized that the girl was unconscious and quite possibly hurt.

"Inka? What do you see?" Newt's voice echoed from above.

"It's a girl," Inka murmured in response, trying to brush away the hair on the sleeping girl's face to get a better look at her.

"No way," There were murmurs of wonder as the boys stared at the two women down in the cage. One might have been a stretch, but if they had sent two it showed that the creators must have had a completely ulterior motive.

"What? No."

"Impossible."

"Is she dead?"

"No," Inka shook her head, listening for the girl's breathing and letting the feeling of relief wash over her when she could feel the other girl's breath on her ear. She quickly checked her pulse as well, feeling if the beat was sluggish or too fast. Surprisingly enough, it was steady, and the only thing that seemed to be wrong was that she was out cold. "No, she's not dead."

"What's in her hand?" Gally's voice called down to her, and Inka's eyes immediately shot towards the girl's extended right hand.

She quickly picked out the small piece of paper, slightly scruffled and obviously wrapped up very hastily, before opening it. The message she saw sent a chill straight down her spine.

"'She's the last one ever'," She read in a shaky voice, looking up towards the boys in confusion. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

She unfortunately did not get an answer, as the girl suddenly woke with a gasp. In result, Inka threw herself against the far side of the cage in panic, prepared to protect herself if needed whilst letting out a rather large yelp. The girl made no move however, and instead focused in on the sky as Thomas' name fell out of her gasping lips. Then, as quickly as she had woken, the girl was out again and her eyes rolled back into her head. The surrounding group took a moment to recover from their own shock as they stared at Thomas in fear, wondering what this behavior could possibly mean and the girl she knew Thomas' name without even having asked it.

"You still think I'm overreacting?" Gally's sarcastic tone shot out through the shocked silence, looking towards each and every individual Glader.

"Slim it Gally," Inka growled, proud of herself for having memorized her first foreign insult and moving forwards towards the girl once again. She did not want to hear Gally's unhelpful comments at the moment, especially not in this particular situation. For a reason Inka did not know of, she could not find fear in her system at the moment. She was a little bit shocked at the girl's outburst, but was certain that she wanted to help the poor thing and recollected her thoughts as quickly as possible. She quickly collected the girl in her arms, surprised at her own strength in being able to lift a girl that was significantly heavier than her – she supposed she had Minho's strength training to thank for that – and began to move her towards the edge of the cage. The unconscious girl was going to have to be placed in the med-jack hut until she woke up, and Inka had a suspicion that she was going to be rather shocked when she did.

"Help me with her," She uttered to no one in particular as she began to lift the girl upwards.

Newt came to her rescue alongside Minho, who took the girl into his arms and began to transport her with Clint and Jeff's help towards the med-jack hut. Newt bothered himself with assisting his tiny British counterpart out of the cage, and quickly noticed that there were no boxes or supplies in the large metal contraption either. If this girl was the last one, did that mean no more supplies were coming up? His stomach fluttered in nervous fear once more as he realized just how many things had changed in such a short time span. Perhaps the creators were getting frustrated with their lack of progression and wanted them gone, but that seemed rather ominous and sick considering two of their friends had recently gotten stung by daytime Grievers. Who were they to plop the boys down into a Glade for three years and then force them out of it? Who was doing this?

Thomas, who was still in slight shock over his own name – the only thing he had left in his brain to remember – being called by the mysterious girl who had popped up, had still not moved. It was only when Chuck nudged him that he snapped out of his daze and went dashing after Minho, eager to try and discover anything else about the long haired brunette. Newt on the other hand, stayed behind and ordered Clint to let him know if she woke up anytime soon – it was possible that she had more information on her other than the paper, and they needed to know it as soon as possible. He also ordered that no one entered the maze until Minho gave orders, knowing that Inka would have been very curious and most likely brash enough to try and make a run for it as soon as she had the chance. The good news was that she was beginning to see things from a safe point of view, and this meant that she was truly becoming a part of their makeshift society.

"Where do you want me for the rest of the day?" Inka's voice startled Newt slightly, but he held his composure and assigned her back to the track-hoes so that he could keep a close eye on her just in case of anything.

She did not seem particularly upset about another woman arriving, although he could see glints of curiosity in her eyes as she occasionally looked towards the med-jack hut. He imagined it would have been a relieving feeling to finally see another person of the same gender after having spent a month surrounded by boys with no memories, so he tried to see it from her point of view and did not reprimand her for being distracted in the next several hours. They worked silently, planting cabbage and carrot seeds in the shady covering they had created. Several times Newt would look over at Inka and watch her silently as she worked, noticing the sweat on her brow and the way her tiny fingers would handle the plants so gently she gave the impression they were made of glass. It was easy to get lost watching her, so after several times Newt mentally chided himself and tried his best to focus.

Several hours went by, and soon enough Clint came jogging through the fields to inform the second in command that the girl just wasn't waking up. The med-jacks had tried everything they knew of to wake her, but her unconscious state did not shift and they were growing concerned. Everything that Inka had checked before – her heart rate, skin condition and breathing – were completely fine, except for the fact that she just wouldn't wake up.

"Jeff...what's going on?" Newt questioned as soon as he, Minho, Thomas and Inka had entered the med-jack hut. He had brought the two boys along for extra strength in case of incident, but he had brought Inka along because he knew that just in case of emergency, the other girl would be more comforted to see one of her own gender instead of all men. "What's the matter with her? Why won't she wake up?"

"Hey man, I got my job the same way you did," Jeff began, placing his hands on his hips and hinting that he could not figure it out why the girl would not rise.

"Well?" Newt caught Thomas staring at the girl's face, and frowned towards him. "Do you recognize her?"

"No," He admitted, shaking his head and blinking rapidly as if it would help the situation.

"Really?" The second in command asked somewhat sarcastically. "'Cause she seemed to recognize you."

"What about the note?"

"We'll worry about the note later," Newt shook his head, regarding the mysterious girl curiously for the first time. Her thick brown hair shielded her face from view, although it did not hide her upturnt nose and thin pink lips. She seemed to be of average height and weight and healthy, unlike Inka who was still underweight and rather jumpy both physically and mentally.

"I think you should worry about it now," Thomas added for good measure, interrupting Newt's thoughts and looking between him and Minho.

"We've got enough to deal with at the moment," Newt reminded him, crossing his arms stubbornly and not caving.

"He's right Newt," Jeff butted in, trying to vouch for Thomas' opinion while hopelessness coated his features. "If the box isn't coming back up, how long do you think we can last?"

"No one said that," The British boy tried to reassure himself and the other boys in the room, knowing fully well that the box not arriving on schedule each month was a very likely risk but not wanting to confront it at the moment. "Let's not jump to any conclusions. We'll just...we'll just wait until she wakes up and see what she knows. Somebody's got to have some answers around here."

Newt looked around for Inka, who had disappeared for the time being. He frowned, leaning backwards to check the other separate rooms and spotted her near Alby's form looking at his wound. Looking at her for a bit, he noticed that she had a very rough grimace on her face and regarded their leader somewhat helplessly. For a moment he was consumed in watching her and her emotions, trying to see why she felt that way and if there was any particular reason why she had chosen to visit Alby instead of the girl. For her sake he hoped that she had been listening to the conversation, because it was important that she was notified if the girl woke up. Alby, on the other hand, had little chance of 'waking up'. He did not even realize that Thomas had begun to take off until Minho made a noise, and Newt quickly questioned where the new greenie was headed.

"Back into the maze," He explained simply. Minho sighed and shared a gaze with a very passive Newt, who nodded at him before he took off after Thomas and pulled Inka along with him. The second in command regarded their retreating figures for a split second before deciding to head back to the fields, wanting to work away his stress and fears for the rest of the day if possible. Minho, on the other hand, had taken it upon himself to question Thomas' choices and tried to stop him as he took off on a slow jog towards the Northern exit.

"What is this with you, huh Thomas?" The oriental boy had stopped the new arrival, placing a hand on his chest. "Death wish? You just got out, and now you want back in?"

"Newt said that no one but Inka has ever seen or killed a Griever," Thomas defended his choice, a fire lighting behind his eyes. "Now we have another one, and you're telling me that you're not curious about it?"

"Not really, no," Minho deadpanned, not the least bit excited to discover the body of another one of the terrible creatures he had spent years trying to avoid.

"He's right," Inka sided with Thomas. "You wanted to see mine, remember? We might find something different in his."

"Something different?" Thomas frowned, looking down at the smaller girl who shared an uncertain glance with Minho before pulling something out of her pack.

"We found this," She showed the greenie the cylindrical object with the bright light that still shone red, and watched as Thomas took it from her hands and twisted it until he caught sight of the yellow plating that read 'WCKD' in black font. "We don't know what it does, but we might find something else in your Griever."

"Come on Minho," Thomas shook his head at this information, and begged the Keeper of the runners to agree with his idea whilst he handed the object back to Inka. "You can't ignore this."

"Alright, alright. So what's the plan?" Minho finally caved, crossing his arms and standing in between the two troublemakers of the Glade. "Are you gonna go out and dissect the thing all on your lonesome?"

"I will if I have to," Thomas looked between the two runners as if they had grown a second head, thinking that they had turned and were not on his side anymore. "Have the other runners left yet?"

"The other runners – except this little jacked she-bean – quit this morning," Minho revealed, looking towards the fire pit where Elijah, Freddy and Dave were eating with Gally. "After Alby got stung they're not in any hurry to get back out there. Why are you two?"

"Because the maze is the only way out," Inka repeated, tone slightly sharper now that she was forced to explain her reasoning for wanting to run through the maze countless amounts of times. "I've told you so many times – it's the only way out, and if we get scared we're not going to get any answers."

She looked towards Thomas for confirmation, and found that he shakily agreed with her.

"I think it's time we figure out what we're really up against," They both looked back at Minho for support, and relief coated his face when the oriental boy gave a huff of agreement.

"All right," His expression was tight, indicating that he believed the idea was risky but worth it. "But you're not going back out there alone. You two meet me at the Northern entrance in half an hour."

Although it was difficult to convince them, Minho managed to coerce Zart, Winston and Frypan to join the expedition to the second ruptured Griever in case of emergency, and the group found themselves near the North door of the maze at what they felt to be a good half hour later. Thomas seemed to be satisfied with the number of runners, and the group took off rather quickly to save as much time as possible for the dissection. They reached the carcass in a good couple hours, several of the boys grimacing and making noises of disgust once the smell hit their nostrils.

"That is disgusting," Zart announced, gripping the stick he had brought along and regarding the carcass carefully.

"There's something in there," Thomas squinted at the body, trying to get closer without endangering himself in case it sprung back to life for some unnamed reason.

"You mean besides the Griever pancake?" Frypan tried to see what he was talking about, and then nodded when he saw the blinking red light.

"Yeah, that's what we're looking for," Inka confirmed that it was indeed the same object that her and Minho had found in the Sector 3 Griever, and pushed past Zart to pry open a metal compartment so that she could stick her hand inside the carcass. "Let me."

The boys let out a groan as she reached her way inside without time for debate, sickened at the noise and the act that she was willingly performing. The stench was unbelievable at that point, and only a madman would have chosen to do a task so dirty and sticky as Inka was doing. She tried to find her way into the main cavity of the body, but found that she was blocked by a number of tunnels and did not know where to turn. Perhaps this Griever was at a different angle than the one she had killed? She did not have time to look for an answer however, because the Griever suddenly gave a large mechanical screech and it's leg shot out as a reflex. Inka sprung back several feet only to crash into Minho, who held her steady albeit losing a bit of breath after the power of her jump hit him in the chest.

"I thought you said it was dead!" Frypan exclaimed, mirroring the actions of all the other boys who were looking equally as shocked and gripped their sticks for protection.

"Was it a reflex?" Zart inquired, horror coating his features.

"You hope!" Winston hovered behind the Keeper of the track-hoes, too nervous to get any closer to the 'dead' body.

Inka quickly moved to reach back into the body again, having recovered from her shock and growing frustrated, when Minho made a sound of protest.

"I'm okay - it's fine," Inka looked back at him, holding his gaze steadily. "I'm not scared."

She stepped forward reached into the creature again, wincing slightly as she squeezed past what was meant to be an imitated mechanical digestive system filled with slimy tubes, and looked for the main cavity. Her hand closed in on it within a couple of seconds, and she yanked as hard as she possibly could several times before the object finally came free. The force nearly knocked her back on her behind once again, but she held her balance and slid the cylinder out of the heart-like chamber. The boys crowded to see the object, reveling in an actual piece of machinery that was alive and whirring before them and that was clearly a clue. Inka then pulled out her own cylinder and compared the two, seeing that the number on her cylinder was labeled as 96438916 and the number on the fresh cylinder that was labeled as 9643921. The red number on it read seven, and Inka allowed a frown to coat her features at this new information.

"What the hell do these things do?" Frypan questioned, looking back and forth between the two cylinders and trying to remember what Inka had said about the one she had found at the gathering a month ago.

"Three, four, five, six, seven..." Inka counted, ignoring the cook's curiosity and noticing that the last two numbers on the cylinder's yellow plating were five apart. "The longer number is also four digits away from my Griever - this one matches sector 7."

"For our sake, I hope there's only one for each sector," Minho looked up and around at the maze walls. "That mean's we've got six left to deal with."

"Exactly," Frypan butted in again, already retreating back the way the group had come from. "So let's not stick around to meet this guy's friends."

"You're right," Minho acknowledged, staring up at the sky with growing concern. "It's getting late. Let's head back."

* * *

Around an hour and a half later, the Keepers, Newt, Inka and Thomas gathered in the meeting hut to discuss what they had found. The two cylinders were presented to Newt by Minho, who held them out for the temporary leader to compare. Newt regarded the metallic objects carefully, still uncertain as to what sort of power they possessed. The lettering on both cylinders was the same, and the only difference seemed to be the digits and the red numbers – one that read three and the other that read seven.

"The numbers on both the platings and the screens are five digits away from each other," Inka stated, grey eyes shining as she pointed to the respective spots on the objects. "They match with the sectors, so we think there's only six left."

Newt's eyes followed her fingertips and traced over the numbers, trying to riddle out why on earth the creators would be sending both supplies and mobilizing Grievers to harm the Gladers at the same time. It was already established that the whole maze was a sick puzzle to entrap them in the Glade, but Newt couldn't fathom why the same company that was giving them the necessary tools to live was also producing mechanical monsters to kill them. Unless the whole thing was a giant twisted game that someone in power was playing, the British boy really did not have an explanation.

"We have to go back out there," Thomas tried to convince Newt that these findings were positive instead of ominous, but it was clear that the second in command was nervous. "Who knows where this might lead us."

"You see what they're trying to do, right?" Gally furiously turned to Newt after looking between him and the object for several seconds. "First they break our rules and then _he_ tries to convince us to abandon them totally?! The rules are the only thing that have ever held us together; why now are we questioning that?"

Newt looked at Gally and then Thomas, wheels turning in his head. His eyes met Inka's, and although she gave him a cool glance as if to remind him to make the right decision, he felt himself teetering in Gally's direction. He understood where the boy was coming from in terms of safety; Thomas was violating and disrespecting the same rule over and over again, and it was no longer acceptable. The rules were the glue, something that the boys had clung to to keep themselves safe especially after they had proven to work for so long. Less boys had died and more lives had been protected using the rules than anything else, and Newt recognized the value in that system. At the same time of course, the catch was that acts of rebellion most often sparked the most change; Thomas and Inka had been the spark, and Newt also realized that perhaps they were shoving the Gladers in the direction they had needed to be shoved in for all these years. So, as he looked back at Thomas reproachfully, he decided to compromise.

"This shank," Gally continued, missing the way Newt's eyes darkened when he looked his way. "Needs to be punished."

"You're right," Newt handed the cylindrical objects back to Inka, holding back a shiver when her hands brushed his and he felt the warmth. "Thomas broke the rules. One night in the pit with no food."

"Oh, come on Newt!" Gally immediately complained, flailing his arms about. "One night in the pit – you think that's gonna stop him from going into the maze!?"

"No," Newt spoke as if he wanted that exact result, eyeing the Keeper of the builders as if he was an idiot before turning his gaze back to Thomas. "And we can't just have non-runners running into the maze whenever they feel like it. So let's just make this official; starting from tomorrow, you're a runner."

Several reactions set off in the room at once. Minho gave a slight nod to the temporary leader, Inka let a small smile grace her features for a split second, and Thomas eyed Newt carefully. Gally, on the other hand, scoffed in disbelief and angrily made his way out of the hut. He pushed Frypan's hands away, who tried to stop him on his way out to avoid an angry rampage from happening. Inka ignored this however, in favor of looking back towards Newt's face as Thomas quietly thanked him. The British boy's features had shifted into something that she couldn't identify; it was as if a monster was lurking somewhere behind his eyes, warping his thoughts and showing itself in his pupils.

"I see that, you know," Inka took a step closer to him once Thomas was out the door, eyeing him dubiously. "I see that thing in your eyes."

The second in command did not utter a word, and instead looked down at the small girl without a single emotion on his face.

"I don't know what it is," She continued slowly, grasping at the straps of her pack. "Or why you feel that way sometimes, but it looks like it hurts and I'm sorry."

There was another beat of silence whilst she looked like she was trying to figure out what to say.

"You don't have to tell me, but if you want to I would like to listen."

This time, the pregnant pause nearly overwhelmed the two before she gave him a nervous smile and began to walk towards the door, most likely to resume Track-hoe duties as it was painfully obvious that no more runners were to step foot into the maze that day.

"Newt?" The small girl called to him just as she was about to exit the hut. "You coming?"

He did not respond at first, partly out of shock and partly out of guilt, because he realized in that moment that she had given him the time and space he needed to come about the issue himself. She had not tried to force an answer out of him, nor threaten him with anything in case he did not tell her – she had merely informed him that she knew something was off, and that he could talk to her when he was ready and willing to do so. For that, he found that he could not even formulate the words of sheer gratitude he felt. Before his accident he had felt like the loneliest man on the planet; forced to be incarcerated in the stone prison that was the Glade for the rest of his life and wonder what had happened to his life, but now that this tiny little package of determination and sheer force that was to be reckoned with had come along, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. He owed his new found hope and faith to Inka – she had been the push that he had needed to get his brain back on it's feet, and he knew that she was going to help them change everything whether she realized it or not.


	7. New Friends

**New Friends**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.** **  
**

As it turned out, the mysterious girl did not particularly want to reveal whatever she knew with a band full of strange boys in a mysterious land that she could not recognize, and preferred to take refuge in the large watchtower. Her alarm did have a fairly large drawback however, and it was unfortunately taking effect on the boys at that very moment. Newt and Inka were alerted of the situation by several alarmed shouts, and quickly began running towards the watchtower after a confused glance between each other to tend to the commotion. The two arrived at the scene at the same time as Clint, Jeff, Minho and Thomas, who looked rather panicked themselves as they expected the worst based on the med-jack's description of the situation.

"Chuck!" Newt called out to the slopper as the seven regarded the tower in bewilderment. The girl was throwing whatever objects she could find down at the Gladers, trying her best to scare them away. It would have been comical if not for the serious gravity of the situation, but Inka still found chuckles forcing their way out of her throat. "What's goin' on?"

"Girls are awesome," Chuck pointed towards the tip of the watchtower where the girl had begun to toss any object she could find over the side. The boys underneath, who were trying to coax at her to come down, were getting pelted by the various objects and had begun to use large bowls and pieces of wood to shield themselves from the oncoming attack.

"Oh, _now_ we're awesome, are we?" Inka made a face, teasing the younger boy who she felt friendly with at this point. "I remember overhearing a certain someone saying I was a weirdo."

Chuck's cheeks turned pink as he tried to bite back another laugh, but did not succeed when he looked back towards the girl up on the watchtower.

"Come down here!" Gally was shouting up at the girl, who only pelted more objects towards him in response. In return, he took shelter behind one of the large pots Frypan was holding up and held his hands up in surrender whilst he shouted to the other Gladers. "Stay back! Stay back!"

"Everybody watch your heads!" Winston had grabbed part of a broken box and was also holding it above his head in hopes that she would not aim for him. He passed out spare boards to the other boys whilst Frypan gave the lid of his pot to one of the Track-hoes, and the boys tried to cover themselves with the materials as best they could.

"Heads, heads, heads!" Inka and Newt quickly ran towards the scene, trying to shield themselves from the objects and trying to get a glimpse of the girl. "Heads!"

"You throw one more of those things, and I'll -" Gally did not get to finish his sentence, however, as he was promptly pelted in the head with what seemed to be an apple. Inka let out a bark of laughter, already enjoying the other woman's presence after seeing Gally so frustrated once again.

"Go away!" The rough voice at the top of the tower shouted, sounding quite frightened.

"We come in peace!" Dave tried to reason with the girl, huddling behind Elijah who shoved him out of the way just as a metal cup came falling their way.

"Yo, Gally, what happened?!" Frypan looked towards the Keeper of the builders, who was trying not to get hit and looking increasingly angry by the second.

"Just duck," He grumbled, sticking his head under the pot again.

"I don't think she likes us very much!" Newt laughed, trying to shield Inka from another incoming object but failing miserably. The British girl let out a yelp of pain when the cup managed to bounce off of her shoulder, and she shielded herself from more oncoming falling items under Winston's board.

"She's got a good aim," Inka grumbled, holding the spot in pain and squinting up at the top of the watchtower. "I'll give her that."

"What do you want from me?!" The girl voice called down again, refusing to cease the bombardment.

"Hey look, we just want to talk!" Thomas tried to reason with her and ducked out of the way just in time for an orange to miss his head.

"I'm warning you!" She increased the pace of the objects, causing Frypan to let out a cry when his foot was hit.

"Take cover y'all!" He moved closer to the base of the tower, hoping that it would shift him out of the range of fire. "Take cover!'

"Hey, woah! Woah! Woah!" Thomas raised his arms up in surrender, stepping forward a little. "It's Thomas – it's Thomas!"

Surprisingly enough his words worked miracles, and the objects stopped falling. There were several beats of peace as the girl's head peaked over the edge of the watchtower once more, and the boys watched her in stunned silence. Several looked towards Thomas uncertainly as he announced to the girl that he was going to join her up in the watchtower, but did not stop him as he made his way towards the ladder. Gally could only glare at the greenie, still holding his sore head and pouting like a ten year old child. Minho grinned a bit as Thomas made his way up the ladder, wondering what was going to happen when the newbie got up there based off of what the girl had exhibited so far, and even went so far as to let out a slight chuckle or two. It only took five minutes for the Keeper of the builders to lose his patience, and he shouted up towards Thomas to demand to know what was happening.

"Is she coming down?" Newt placed his hands on his hips, squinting up towards Thomas' distant figure, watching as he looked back towards what was most likely the hidden mystery girl.

"You guys just give us a sec, okay?"

The Gladers looked up at the tower dubiously, not wanting to leave Thomas alone with the new she-bean who's mental stability was questionable at this point. Yet, they allowed themselves to be coaxed away by Newt who led them back towards their posts for the day, even though they knew they would not stop asking questions about why the 'last' girl had been delivered up in the Glade and what purpose she would serve. Inka's purpose had been clear enough when she had sprinted into the maze for the first time and emerged alive the next morning, but the mystery girl's cause for arrival was yet to be discovered. Of course, this was based on the job that they were likely to play in the Glade instead of the actual reason for their placement – the question of why they had been chosen to inhabit the grassy area was one that none of the boys could answer even after three years.

"Is this what all girls are like?" Frypan muttered to himself, gripping his overalls nervously as the group began to walk away from the watchtower. "Inka hid from us, stole from us and ran away from us – is it us or is it them?"

"Yeah well, Inka's a little bit jacked, isn't she?" Minho snorted, elbowing the small scruffy haired girl. "This she-bean's just scared. It's them Fry – not us."

"I wish I could remember what other girls were like," Inka sighed weakly, rolling her sore shoulder ignoring her running partner's jab about her mental well-being. There was a beat of sad silence as the boys realized that this was her first other female connection since she had come up in the box, and there was no debating that she would have most likely been hoping for it to go better. Newt eyed her with kind understanding, sympathetic towards her situation even though he had never been in her shoes.

"As soon as she's up for it we'll bunk her near you," The second in command murmured to the British girl, who looked somewhat let down, in hopes that it would help. "Alright?"

"Sure," Inka nodded, knowing that it did not make much difference since the homestead was such a crowded area anyway, but was slightly more comforted knowing that there was another woman in the Glade and that she would be close to her.

The two proceeded to the fields, where they continued their work of planting more tomatoes and cucumbers along the dirt rows that Zart had carefully placed when he had arrived in the Glade. An hour or so passed in silence, until Inka broke it.

"Newt," Her voice called to him softly from several feet away. He stood to look at her, but she merely continued working so he slowly did the same all the while eyeing her curiously. "You said you got here three years ago, right?"

His hands stopped digging for a moment, not expecting her to have asked such a question.

"Yeah," He responded carefully, plopping the fresh tomato seeds down into the hole before covering it up again and giving the dirt lump a little water. "With the big group."

She did not make a noise that let him know she had heard him, and instead let him ponder why exactly she had clarified that whilst he occasionally glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. They generally worked in silence, finding that it was more comfortable and easy that way, so he continued to do so. It was slightly uncanny, however, that whenever one of them needed the shovel or more seeds their arms knew when to wait or reach for the other to pull away. At one point, Inka did not even need to stretch for the shovel as Newt was already handing it to her before she could move, and Newt did not have to ask where she had last placed the seeds because she had already dropped more of them beside his spot in the dirt. Yet neither of them acknowledged the smoothness of their interactions until the Keeper of the track-hoes showed up.

"You two look like a well oiled machine," Zart exclaimed suddenly, having popped up out of nowhere and startling the two British teenagers. Inka let out a grunt of surprise, nearly falling back on her behind but regaining her composure just in time to retain her balance and stand up.

"Zart," She growled, brushing the dirt off of her pants. "You're gonna give me a bloody heart attack."

"This will too," His face suddenly turned grim, and Newt gazed at him in concern. "The new she-bean's got some stuff in her pockets. We think it might be for the Griever sting."

* * *

The two temporary track-hoes found themselves back in the med-jack hut hovering over a restrained Alby whilst Jeff and Clint regarded the leader sorely, waiting for Thomas and the girl to arrive. Zart had not only informed them that she had found two vials of blue liquid in her pocket, but also let them know that her name was Teresa, and that she was significantly calmer now than she had been this morning. She had spent a fair bit of time speaking with Thomas at the top of the watchtower, which had obviously helped her alarmed state because Inka had not heard any yells thus far and she had not seen any more bruises on the boy's upper bodies. Teresa had surely done a number on them, that was certain.

"Is that...is that another girl?" Inka suddenly heard the other woman's voice call out from the entrance and quickly rose to her feet from her crouched position beside Alby. Newt turned to see the mystery girl regarding Inka with disbelief and palpable relief, moving forwards eagerly.

"Yup," Inka blinked, a nervous smile coating her features as she gazed shyly at the girl. "It's just us two... and this load of testosterone."

Teresa managed to give her a little grin at that, and the two stared at each other for a several seconds longer – simply looking up and down to make sure that they were real.

"I'm Teresa."

"Inka." Newt could not help the twitch of his lips, threatening to pull his mouth into a smile, as Inka uttered her own unique name that flowed off of her lips so perfectly and complimented it's uniqueness.

Although the British girl had not been in the Glade for long and not minded being around the boys, she was still excited that one of her own kind had shown up. Even though she could not remember human contact before the cage, it still felt like social interactions had never been her strong point and so Inka remained shy and silent under Teresa's gaze. The two broke the gaze off after a moment, and Teresa handed Newt – who she had most likely been informed was the temporary leader – a suspicious blue tube. He flipped it around in his hands, not stopping Inka as she leaned closer to him to try and read the plating on the syringe-like object.

"WCKD," He read out, letter by letter. "Again, same letters from our supplies. What's going on?"

"I don't know," Teresa admitted. "But the only medication it looks like you guys desperately need is..."

She trailed off, not knowing what to call the sting that had affected their leader as he lay gasping and grunting in the cot before them. His infection had gotten worse, spreading to his neck and down his stomach as the dark veins seemed to bulge out of his body. It was growing, and everyone knew it.

"We don't even know what this stuff is," Newt grasped the small tube of blue liquid in his hand, clear doubt etched on his face. "We don't know who sent it or why it came up here with Teresa – I mean, for all we know this could kill him."

"He's already dying," Thomas pointed out, holding out a hand towards their suffering leader. "Look at him – how could this possibly make it any worse? Come on, it's worth a try."

It took Newt a moment as he took what could quite possibly be the last look at his best friend – the sole person who had brought stability and responsibility to the Glade and made everyone feel at home for three years. The second in command had nearly everything to thank him for, including the point in time in which his 'accident' had occurred and he had needed that structure that Alby was so good at delivering in his life to help stabilize him again. The leader had done so much for the Glade and been such a figure of strength and indestructibility that it was almost ridiculous to think that he was lying there before them in the med-jack hut, tied to the cot and writhing in pain. It seemed uniquely unfair, especially after all he had contributed to the makeshift society the Gladers had constructed for themselves. It was then, whilst Newt continued to stare at his friend squirming in agony as if something was literally eating him alive from the inside, that he made the final decision.

"All right," He spoke calmly, handing the object to Thomas who took it into his hands quickly. "Do it."

Thomas knelt by Alby swiftly, and trying to figure out where he could place the syringe-like tube whilst staring back at Teresa, Newt, Clint, Jeff and Inka who had all crowded around the leader anxiously. He would not get a chance to inject him however, because suddenly Alby was wide awake and he was pulling Thomas towards him violently.

The room went absolutely wild, boys panicking as they tried to pry the two apart.

"You shouldn't be here!" Alby growled, red eyes dark and pained. "You shouldn't be here! NO!"

"Watch out!" Newt frantically pushed Alby's left arm down with Thomas' help as the med-jacks held the other, Alby's strength nearly overcoming them all.

"Get the syringe!" Thomas shouted to whomever was listening, and Inka quickly grabbed the dropped object rolling around on the ground before taking a chance and plunging it into Alby's chest. The boy immediately stopped struggling, eyes falling shut in record time whilst he slumped back down onto his pillow.

"Well that worked," Jeff was breathless, staring at the scene in shock.

"Okay," Newt took hold of the situation as soon as possible, watching as Inka's hands trembled violently and growing upset that this sort of incident had occurred. Her eyes stayed glued on the syringe she had left stuck in Alby's chest, breath coming out of her mouth in short gasps as she tried to focus herself. "From now on, someone stays here and watches him around the clock."

There was silence as several of the boys agreed, but Inka still could not stop shaking and tried to take deep breaths to calm herself. Even when Newt came through the door to collect Thomas for his night in the pit, she did not move and continued to stand in shock as she regarded Alby with wide eyes. It was traumatizing to perform the action of stabbing, even if it was to assist recovery, and this point was clear as Inka was visibly upset. Although she was not crying or speaking, her breathing was getting louder and her face was growing paler. It was as if she could not convince herself that she had done something positive, and the second in command easily made his way over to her as Teresa looked on in worry.

"It's alright – calm, calm," Newt murmured as he performed the familiar action of placing one of his large hands on her back and another one wrapped around her wrist to guide her out the door. "You're alright."

Her hands were shaking so badly Newt could feel it in his wrist, and he sat her down on the ground upon their arrival outside as she tried to take deep calming breaths. He plopped down beside her, arm unconsciously shooting up to stroke her back so that she had something to focus on. Newt did not know what to say, so instead he only offered his warm presence in hopes that it was enough to make her feel less alone and scared. Teresa sill had not made her way out of the hut, leading him to believe that she was curious about Alby's particular condition and had stuck behind to ask Clint and Jeff more questions. Newt focused his attention back on Inka, who was beginning to relax and shake a bit less by the minute. He did not cease his meticulous rubbing until she had calmed enough for him to have a conversation with her, and chose a distracting topic for her.

"Your hair is getting longer," He noted, reaching up to play with several strands. It took him several seconds to see it, but he noticed a light tint of red on her cheeks that he was certain was not from her recent panic attack.

"I've been wanting to cut it," She ducked her head down, brushing a hand through her rapidly growing locks and inhaling deeply to shut out the last nerves in her stomach.

"I'll get Winston to do it tonight," Newt suggested, smiling slightly at her short tousled locks. They always seemed to be scruffy and disorganized, but they framed her face perfectly and suited her very well. "He cuts everyone else's hair, so don't worry about getting your scalp ripped off."

This coerced a bubbly laugh out of her lips despite the morbidness of the comment, and Newt found himself grinning along as the sound of her laughter forced a feeling out from hiding in his stomach that he knew he had not felt in a long time. Even in the darkest times there was reason to strive for positivity, and this was a message he had not remembered since his incident. He could not believe that this tiny girl sitting in front of him had brought out all of the hope and faith that had been so close to shutting off inside of him, as well as reinvigorated his thirst to look for answers. Before she had arrived he had concerned himself with distractions as to forget about the maze and it's horrors, but now all he wanted to do was escape and find out who had been cruel enough to do this to all of his friends.

"'Load of testosterone'?" Newt smiled and quoted her early comment airily as he tried to make light of the situation earlier. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were all just one big overlapping blob of hormones to you."

"In my defense," A mischievous smirk took over her face as her grey eyes met his dark brown ones. "Spending three years amongst your own gender is just a breeding ground for frustration and competitions for dominance."

"You're not wrong," Newt grinned as he looked around the Glade. "Although you make us sound like we're complete neanderthals."

"Some of you are," She muttered, losing her smile as she focused in on the builders fixing up the side of one of the storage huts. Gally was in the centre, chastising one of his workers for something neither Brit could name.

"He's not that bad," Newt tried to defend the Keeper of the builders, playing with a blade of grass between his fingers as he pondered the reasons why Gally acted the way he did. "I think he does care, it just comes across as controlling when it should be protective."

"I think he's scared to leave," Inka ripped out a small bushel of grass, tone somewhat harsh.

"Why do you think that?" Newt looked at her in surprise.

"If you listen to his words and his tones," She began, sorting through each blade of grass until she found the biggest one and proceeded to rip it in half. "He sounds less and less like angry and more and more scared of change. Change doesn't have to be bad – in fact in our case it's good, but he opposes every step we consider forward...it's like a child who's found a nice toy to play with and doesn't want to leave it."

"Or like someone who's found stability after chaos and doesn't want to risk anything..." Newt murmured, realizing where she was coming from and seeing that she was quite possibly correct in her assumptions.

The two sat in silence for a bit more, but as the sun began to fall Newt gently ushered her towards the kitchens where the boys were lining up to receive their meals. The second in command and the she-bean quickly joined the others in the queue, grabbing their own bowls and watching Frypan spoon out the soup from several meters away. The fire pit that the Gladers used regularly during normal meals was already burning brightly, warming those who sat near it although the heat was not necessarily needed. The nights had been warm ever since the rain had arrived, and Inka found herself anxious about any future possible weather changes. She did not remember feeling much besides rain, but remembered that snow was uncomfortable and hoped that it would not arrive in the Glade anytime soon. Then again with a dome over their heads and someone quite possibly having a control over these things, anything was possible.

"Eat up," Frypan gave Inka a smile as he gave her a portion of his tomato soup, and she quickly returned it shyly before occupying an empty log looking out towards the Northern door of the maze. She preferred to watch it every now and then, finding that looking at it directly made her all the more invigorated to solve the puzzle that it was.

Newt joined her after a minute, finding himself unable to draw away from her presence. As they did with most tasks, they shared a silence while they drank from their bowls and stared at the large stone walls. As it turned out, regarding the maze pushed his thought process into gear as well, and he soon found himself wrapped up in memories that he thought he had put out of his mind forever. His time in the Glade had always been about forgetting the puzzle after his experiences inside of it, although he could not bring himself to tell Inka the story that had led up to his unfortunate incident quite yet. Whether it was the fact that he was too shy or too ashamed of his past he was not sure, but he did not intend on letting it slip out anytime soon. Despite all this however, he picked out the pieces of the maze that he could remember and tried to hold on to the vigor that he felt had reignited inside of him, sparked by Inka's arrival.

"I still think it's strange we're both British," Inka had already gulped down her soup and placed the bowl aside, now sitting with her knees tucked into her chest with her chin resting atop of them. "Does everyone else really have an American accent?"

"As far as I can tell," Newt's voice was rough, and he tried to concentrate on eating. He was almost frightened to admit that there was a possibility that their accents were connected to their past before the Glade, as he was not sure how to deal with the fact that his memory had been completely wiped and there was a bucketload of his brain sitting in some storage space somewhere. For all he knew he could have been a distant relative of several boys in the Glade, and the creators were playing a sick game to try and see who remembered who.

"Do you think anyone knew each other?"

And there it was.

Newt tensed visibly as the question left her lips, not wanting to think about the saddening possibility that he could have very well known her – or any of the other Gladers – before this incident. They would never know their true identities or their ties, and for him the endless options of what their lives could have been before was such a negative thought – considering all of it had been wiped away like some sort of chalk on a board – that he did not even want to bother thinking about the past because it was all erased either way. Even though he strived for answers and supported the idea of finding the creators themselves (and possibly strangling a few of them in their sleep) he knew that there was little chance of regaining the memories they had lost. He had lost hope of ever remembering again, and was almost terrified at the concept of remembering.

"I don't know," He admitted, finishing off the rest of his soup and placing the bowl on the ground in front of him before looking around for Winston.

"You don't want to talk about this," Inka stated what was painfully clear, and Newt stopped his visual search to meet her gaze somewhat guiltily. She did not look disappointed in the slightest, and instead regarded him with an air of curiosity.

"Sorry," He did not know exactly what he was apologizing for, as no one had to force him to talk about anything he want to much less Inka, but he felt as though he had let her down in some way.

"That's alright," She shrugged, looking up towards the sky as if it would help her find a new subject. Once again, Newt found himself mesmerized by her patience and acceptance, and nearly thanked her for being so respectful towards him until she spoke again.

"May I ask why?"

He knew what she was questioning as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. He did not blame her, and considered it fair that as long as he did not want to talk about something he at least owed her an explanation for it. Even then, she had asked instead of demanded and he appreciated her kindness and gentleness to no end.

"Because..." He let out a long sigh, trying to string together a sentence of words to explain how he felt. "Because it's sad, and it's frightening."

"Frightening to think one could have the power to make all of us forget?" She tilted her head, a glint in her eyes revealing that she wanted to say more but held herself back.

"Frightening because I don't even know who I was," Newt revealed, realizing that regardless of whether or not he wanted to speak about the subject he was unwillingly doing so and did not mind it as much as he had thought he would. "None of us know who we were or who we knew – it's disturbing to think that someone could just remove that and throw us in here."

"And you would rather start fresh?"

"I don't know," He shook his head, tearing at the grass in between his outstretched legs. "At this point I don't believe that we're ever gonna remember anything."

Inka was quiet at that, not wanting to push him in the conversation too far and sensing that after three years with new fresh memories in mind the old became redundant. If there was a possibility of having family or friends outside of the Glade, they could not know who or where they were and at some point Newt must have come to terms with the fact that he was likely never going to remember his previous life. That sort of thinking was hard to do, especially whilst getting out of the Glade alive was a challenging task in the first place and they still had absolutely no idea who put them there. Clues were small, and their only source into the real world was the strange box that came up – either by itself or by someone else's command – each month. At least, up until Teresa had arrived. The boy's worry that the box was not going to bring up any more supplies was well founded, as the box had not gone back down since Teresa's arrival and did not look to be disappearing any time soon. This caused anxiety between the Gladers, who nervously looked towards the box each morning in hopes that it had returned down below to retrieve more supplies.

Speaking of nervous Gladers, Newt called over Winston after several beats of silence and told him about Inka's wishes to crop her hair. The Keeper of the slicers quickly agreed, leading Inka closer to the now quiet fire pit so that he could have more light to work with. Most of the boys had gone to bed, leaving several stragglers who were finishing up meals or chatting amongst one another.

Winston sat Inka down on an upside down bucket so that she was level with his chest, reminding her to stay still as he began to take individual clumps of hair and slice them back to their original short length. Inka played with her wrist protectors as he did so, smiling softly at Newt who sat himself on the ground several feet away. The British boy watched intently as tuffs of dark brown hair fell to the grassy floor, creating an ever-growing pile. Winston worked all the way from the left side of her head to the right, moving as carefully as he possibly could.

"How do you boys shave?" Inka suddenly asked, voice cutting through the silence and interrupting Newt's gazing towards her. They had clearly found a way, she had figured, considering none of them had beards three feet long at this point and instead looked rather clean shaven most of the time.

"Knives," He answered simply, wincing as he thought about the first year that he had first started eliminating the hair on his face. Each boy had to go through the process of perfecting the art, as it was a rough job and the blade had to be very fine. Newt had cut himself several times in the timespan that he learned the skill, and thinking about it still made him shiver. "Takes awhile to get the hang of it."

"Almost done," Winston carefully chopped off several more strands of hair and brushing through her head one more time to check that he had gotten all the pieces before sheathing the knife.

"Thank you," Inka smiled up at him gratefully, combing her own hand through her short locks before rising and beginning to make her way to the homestead. Newt joined her as Winston stayed behind to talk with the remaining Gladers, and they silently trudged the path towards the place where the Gladers slept. Neither of them knew where Teresa was for the night, which made Newt slightly uneasy, but he pushed the thought out of his mind and clambered into his bunk as he felt fatigue taking over his brain. Inka traveled to hers several feet away, careful not to trip over Elijah's leg that always hung over the side of his cot.

"Goodnight Newt," Inka's voice was soft and sleepy, immediately relaxing the British boy.

"Night Inka," Newt murmured back, trying his very best to think of the way her cheeks had reddened when he had touched her hair earlier on instead of the memories he knew he would never regain.

* * *

The next morning held bright sunshine that awoke several of the Gladers at once, although Inka was not one of them. Newt knew that she had taken off with Minho and Thomas early in the morning and had not expected her to wake him up to say goodbye, although he felt a small pang when he realized that her comforting presence would not be with him in the fields that day. The runners had been given unspoken clearance to re-enter the maze the previous day, having suspected that after the second Griever death it was time to get back out there and really figure out what was going on. Newt agreed with the idea of their purpose, but still found that the pit of anxiety in his stomach grew each time she stepped foot outside of the Glade. It was torture knowing that he most likely still did not have the strength to go inside of it himself and that she could not be held back from running through it, but he tried his best to bare the feeling.

His morning, however, was ultimately brightened upon discovery of a daisy planted near his head. He sat up slightly to regard it, tracing it's white features and yellow centre until he made the conclusion that Inka must have planted it there. Thomas or Minho would not have made such a move, and Inka was the only one who probably sensed that he needed a little uplift in spirit. The gesture made Newt feel thought of and cared for, and he let a small smile shine on his face as he gently picked the flower from it's spot to place it in the breast pocket of his shirt. The tiny symbol of affection got him out of his cot faster and gave him a little more energy as he began his work for the day. Inka, on the other hand, was feeling energetic for an entirely different reason.

"We call 'em blades," Minho explained as he, Thomas and the British girl began to stalk through the panels, far away from the Glade and everyone in it as they had breached the outer ring of the maze. "Inka found them last month when she first got here."

Thomas glanced back at the girl behind them, grey eyes full of contempt for the maze and steadily watching for any beetle blades or signs of Grievers. They had just found Ben's shirt, bloody and ripped to a pulp, and had immediately perked up their ears as a result. Inka's listening was already prime but she found herself growing more aware of every rumble and creak in the distance as they progressed further and further away from the Glade. They had chosen to explore Thomas' sector, number seven, which was strangely open although it was not supposed to be for another week. This caused Minho to tense up even more as his own emotions went on edge, but the three soon stopped as Thomas' cylinder began to beep in Minho's pack. The greenie quickly dug the object out of the Keeper of the runners' backpack, looking at the red light in wonder.

The metallic object buzzed and clicked rapidly, changing speeds when Thomas turned one way or another.

"I think it's showing us the way," Thomas' voice echoed through the blades, and the three began to move cautiously after sharing uncertain glances.

Without moving too fast so that they could track the noise, they walked further forwards through the multiple rows of blades in growing curiosity as to what they could find when the beeping became faster. The sea of blades became larger, making Inka realize that she had just barely grazed the tip of the iceberg in the monster that was the maze. The area stretched on for what seemed like miles, encompassing them in a mass of large sheets of metal that felt as though they were ominously counting down the seconds until they could close on the three runners.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Thomas noticed another change in the clicking as it slowed, and rapidly changed directions. "This way, come on."

After another several minutes of walking, the three came to a large circular corridor that did not look like anything Inka or Minho had seen before. The clicking was more persistent, growing louder and more annoying as they walked over what seemed to be a long stone bridge with mechanical walls lining the side. The crevice in between either side was gaping and dark, ready to swallow any that were careless enough to lose their balance in such an area. Chains hung from several spots on the walls next to lines of black and yellow hazard markings, leading Inka to believe that this area was some sort of next level. At the end of the chasm was a slate of stone, rising up past the heights of the regular walls of the maze and looking rather impenetrable.

"Have either of you guys seen this place before?" Thomas looked back at the two, still gripping the cylinder tightly.

"No," Minho shook his head, looking Inka worriedly. The clicking had grown louder and faster now, blending into one large noise. "Looks like it's just another dead end."

It seemed as though he had spoken too soon, however, and just as soon as the three reached the large slate of stone the clicking noise squealed, trilling loudly before the red numbers on it flipped to green. Inka let out a gasp, eyes widening momentarily at the sight of the color. She looked towards the door immediately, hoping that it was the answer to the light change, and allowed her mouth to fall open in shock as it began to clank open.

"No way," She murmured as three stone doors lifted open to reveal a mechanical hole.

"You sure about this?" Minho looked equally as shocked and looked towards Thomas in concern.

"Nope," Thomas gulped as the three began to make their way down the short corridor and looked down the open hole. Minho quickly looked down into the darkness that seemed to be a slide shaped tube, placing his hand on the side to wipe off whatever shiny liquid was resting on it.

"Grievers..." He noted as he showed the two other runners the slime. More trilling followed after his statement, and seconds later a bright red light burst out of the darkness only to scan them twice with lines of red. A mechanical hissing ensued, followed by creaking and an ominous low note that blared out.

"What the hell!?" Minho jerked in surprise, and watched in shock as the doors began to close behind them. "We gotta get out of here, come on!"

The blaring continued as the three sprinted out of the area, too shocked to say anything besides words of encouragement as they ran back towards where they had came from. The maze did not respond well to their movements, and as soon as the three burst out into the bladed area they witnessed the razor-like objects sliding shut. Minho shouted for the two to sprint for it, and a chaotic challenge ensued. The three were separated as each blade closed a second too soon for the next runner to make it, leaving limited opportunities for escape that were narrowing down by the second. Row after row they ran, barely making it through to the next and trying to keep up with the different directions of closure until they had crossed at least seven lines. Realizing this and seeing that they were one row away from a possible passage, Inka gave Thomas one last shove with all of her might and the two barreled out of the line of blades. Minho had already made it to the other side, and the three stumbled upon an area that looked otherwise harmless but began to rumble when their feet touched it.

"What the -" Inka gave a terrified yelp and jumped out of the way when the ground beneath her groaned and literally erupted into a large platform. The three runners stared, horrified, at the maze that was changing before them into a sort of death trap and looked on as the large metal frame across from them was coming free. The large metal plate fell towards them at a rate that seemed to slow down time, and if not for Minho pulling her out of the way at the last second Inka would have been crumpled by the giant metal slate.

"Come on!" Minho pulled both of the shocked runners away from the area quickly and pushed them to pick up the pace again, panicking himself as he realized the ground they were running on was rapidly coming apart. "GO GO GO!"

He had never witnessed the maze changing himself besides during his night in the maze with Thomas (which was rather hectic and hadn't given him the time to notice just how sinister the stone walls were), but now all of his questions about the noises inside of the ruthless enclosure at night made sense. Such sounds could only be made by such large masses, and unfortunately him, Inka and Thomas were in the middle of it all. He barked at Thomas not to look back and watched as Inka increased her pace to fly far ahead of them, legs pumping at a speed that still shocked him. His mind could not register any current escape routes as he was too distracted by focusing all of his energy on sprinting so that the stone slabs would not catch them, but he was growing desperate as he realized that with each second the giant slates beneath their feet were shifting quicker. The maze was alive, and it was trying to swallow them.

"Here!" Inka shouted suddenly, taking a left and leading them towards a rapidly closing passage. Picking herself up and hopping into the crevice, she did her best to pull Minho and Thomas up before the three army-crawled through the quickly closing crevice that was trying to squeeze them to death.

"Go, go, go!" Minho chanted, formulating the only words he could think of in the moment to urge the two on. The runners barely made it out in the nick of time, dropping out of the rectangular crevice onto the stone floor of the inner ring of the maze with groans. There were no words spared between the three as they looked up at the walls in shock, not having witnessed any sort of shifting like what they had just seen before.

As soon as Inka had regained her breath, she stood on legs that she was surprised not to find at all shaky and helped the two boys rise to their feet as well. The three continued to look at the closed passage in amazement, hardly recognizing that the doors were going to close soon and instead trying to understand what had just happened. The way that the maze had moved was unreal, and for some reason Inka's brain did not wrap well around it. Obviously the adrenaline and fear of the experience were still coursing strongly through her, but she could not help but feel slightly used to the feeling. She could not put her finger on it, but there was a familiar manipulative feeling that she was getting from the way the maze had been shifting.

"It was trying to kill us," She acknowledged, stating what was clear. "It wasn't just moving."

"And how do you know?" Minho raised a brow. "Have you ever seen it move _normally_?"

"Have you?" She shot back, sarcastic but curious to know his answer. The Keeper of the runners - who had not experienced anything of this caliber before - stayed silent, so she went on whilst glaring at the stone walls with a fair bit of suspicion.

"We found a way out," Thomas took the chance to speak in between pants, looking between the two other Gladers. "That's something. Whoever's doing all this obviously didn't like that we found that passage."

"It knew exactly where we were. There's something else going on here; something bigger," She wiped her brow of sweat and then turned around to continue heading back to the Glade. "And not normal..."

The two boys followed, not wanting to agree with the logic that a bigger force was trying to squash them alive but instead focusing on the new possible exit they had found. The three made their way back towards the Glade with Inka in the lead since she was the only one with any strength left in her tiny legs. Minho continued to be surprised by her stamina and resilience, as she seemed to be the only one besides Thomas and he who had been consistently curious about the maze and it's answers. He remembered a certain vigor in another boy who had been a runner not but a year ago, but Minho did not like to remind himself of such dark times. So, somewhat sadly, he pushed those thoughts out of his mind and focused himself on using whatever energy he had left to keep trailing behind Inka. The two boys followed the thin British girl until they finally burst back into the main corridor that led them towards the Glade, greeted by a familiar band of boys staring back at them.

"What the hell is going on out there?!" Newt and a some odd fifteen other boys that had gathered around the entrance of the Northern doors to the maze, curious about the runners' journey and apparently having heard some commotion amidst their daily tasks.

"What the hell have you three done now?" Gally glared, yet followed along with the group as the runners moved towards the deadheads to quickly map what they had seen.

"We found something," Inka shot the Keeper of the builders a venomous warning look, one that suggested she was telling them the truth and that he would get a mouthful if he did not listen. "A new passage."

"We think it could be a way out," A hopeful Thomas added, looking towards Newt with bright eyes as they continued their rapid pace towards the deadheads.

"R-really?" Newt nearly stumbled as he looked between the three, shock and relief coating his features as he tried to believe what he was hearing. After three years of searching, was it really possible that there was a way out of the Glade? The question of whether or not they wanted to step outside and discover the truth was a no-brainer; the British boy had always held that fire inside of him – but the overall risk that it could cause severe harm to any one of his many friends slightly tugged on the reins of his eagerness.

"It's true," Minho nodded, looking towards his friend with a shimmer of hope in his eyes. The Keeper of the runners, of all people, was one who had to learn to live with the constant possibility that there was no answer and for the longest time he had accepted that fate. Yet, he had to push himself each and every day to find an exit that he did not believe existed or a passage way that he did not believe led to anywhere. Now, with Inka and Thomas' help, he had found one. "We opened a door, something I've never seen before. I think it must be where the Grievers go during the day."

"Wait, woah, woah, woah," Chuck butted in, catching up with the pace of the three runners and looking up towards Inka in alarm. "You're saying you found the Griever's home? And you want us to actually, y'know, go _in_ there?"

"Window of opportunity Chuck," Inka nodded her head. "One door closes, another opens. If they use that as a way inside it means that connects to somewhere on the outside."

"Yeah," Gally nearly snorted from several feet behind the group. "Or there could be a shuckton of Grievers on the other side, and now you guys found their nest and want us to go hunting?! You don't realize the damage of what you've done, as per usual."

"At least we did something Gally," Thomas quickly spun around and spat viciously, staring daggers at the builder. "What have you done, huh?! Aside from hide behind these walls all the time?"

"Let me tell you something Greenie," The builder growled, getting up close to the new arrival and trying to intimidate him. "You've been here three days, alright? I've been here _two years_."

"Yeah you've been here for two years Gally," Inka cut in softly, trying to lower the mood. "What does that tell you? You're still here, and everyone wants to get out. Do you not want to leave?"

Suddenly something flashed in Gally's eyes, something that caused Inka to take a protective step back and Newt to tense reflectively upon sensing her uneasiness. Both looked at the Keeper of the builders strangely, as if he had grown a second head, before sharing a concerned glance and trying to relax a bit. This was not long lived, however, as soon enough Teresa approached the group and notified them that Alby had awoken causing the Gladers to migrate towards the medical hut. For the time being any emotions were set aside, as the reawakening of their leader after having been given his injection was the most pressing and stressful point on the Glade's checklist. Unfortunately, what they witnessed upon entry was not to be relieving or rejuvenating but instead morose and ominously foreboding.

"Has he said anything?" Minho questioned as the boys crowded around Alby's still form, sitting on the bed with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Alby?" Newt quickly pushed his way past Thomas and Inka to sit beside his friend, carefully regarding him to make sure all of his symptoms were gone and desperately trying to gain a sliver of his oldest friend back. "Alby, you alright?"

"Hey Alby," Thomas tried a different approach and crouched in front of the large boy's frame. "Alby, we might have just found a way out of the maze. You hear me? We could be getting out of here."

"We can't," The fallen leader quietly croaked after several seconds, managing to get the defeated words out of his mouth in between shivers of tears. "We can't leave. They won't let us."

"What are you talking about?" Thomas was clearly confused and drawing a blank as well as the rest of the Gladers in the room, but Inka's eyes were darting around the floor trying to find an answer in her brain as to why those words had been so overplayed in her head despite this situation being the first she had ever heard them in real life.

"I remember," The leader kept his arms crossed, body tense as he tried to accept all of the knowledge that was jerking through him and tried to ignore the stares of shock he was receiving from the other Gladers. He supposed that he could not call several of them friends anymore.

"What do you remember?" Thomas tried to be patient, although he could see Frypan, Gally and Newt bursting to ask questions.

"You," The leaders eyes snapped to the new arrival, distressed and calculating. "You were always their favorite Thomas, always."

The boy in question looked towards the fallen leader as horror coated his features, realizing that his past life held answers that had clearly affected everyone. Thomas could feel his role in this puzzle, and Alby's words only fortified his suspicions that he had played a larger part in his terrible occurrence than many of these boys. What exactly did he mean, however? Whose favorite?

"And you," Alby's eyes suddenly addressed Inka directly, causing her to tense abruptly and widen her eyes. "I remember you, I remember what they did to you, and I remember why they chose you. You'll hate him," Alby continued to meet Inka's eyes with an unparalleled sadness. "You'll hate all of them – it's already inside of you, they did so much."

Her face, already coated in shock, grew paler at the mention of what her past could possibly entail and what the fallen leader could possibly mean by his words. Who were 'they'? Who were the people that she was meant to hate? What had they done to her? Why her? Why do this to all the boys in the first place? She could not stop thinking and would not allow her eyes to leave Alby's form as she waited for more information. He would not open his mouth however, refusing to look back at her whilst he cradled his head in his arms like a child who wanted to shut out the world the only way it knew how.

"Why did you do this?" He muttered, shaking his head slightly as he addressed Thomas who was looking more and more petrified by the second. "Why did you come here?"

Suddenly, large amounts of panicked shouts from the distance greeted the ears of the group inside, and it took a mere ten seconds for the Gladers inside the medical hut to dash towards the source of the sound and leave behind a sobbing Alby who was stuck in a chaotic world of his own thoughts swirling back and hitting him in full force. What was happening on the other side, however, was quite possibly equally as traumatizing. The Northern maze doors were not shutting, and the entire Glade was on high alert as boys ran back and forth between the doors with flamed torches to try and understand what the problem was. So far everything was suspiciously quiet, but as soon as a large group had gathered in front of the Northern entrance to the maze there was a series of rumbles that shook through them and progressively, each previously closed door opened slowly.

It took a minute or two for the Gladers to realize it, but the doors were opening for the night.


	8. Catalysts

**Catalysts**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.**

Low, deafening creaks and groans were the only sound that filled the Glade as the West, South and East doors opened ominously. Their audience, too petrified of the consequences of their movement to shift their own bodies, gaped in shock as they tried to wrap their minds around what the shifting in schedule could possibly mean. The panic seemed to launch Newt into action, who looked around at the boys for a minute before beginning to give orders.

"Chuck," He looked down at the twelve year old boy. "Barricade the council hall, alright? Get every piece of bloody wood you can find and don't stop stacking it until everyone gets there – Winston will go with you."

"Got it," The Keeper of the slicers and the tiny slopper took off, running as fast as they could towards the boy's only fortified shelter. Newt stared after them for a split second, trying to decide if he had made the right choice to send the youngest boy first but agreed with himself that Winston would protect him.

"Get the others," Gally quickly jumped into play as well, distracting Newt as his voice amplified with every word. "Tell them to go into the hall and hide, now!"

"Thomas," Newt looked for the greenie in the crowd, subconsciously grabbing Inka by the arm and moving her closer to himself. "You and Teresa go and get Alby – bring him to the hall. Minho, Fry, Inka and I will meet you there with weapons."

The new arrival nodded, taking the other girl along with him as the rest of the crowd dispersed in the direction of the council hall. This, unfortunately, proved to be a terrible game plan as soon as screams of various boys were heard. Every set of ears in the Glade listened in on the sound, recognizing the shouts and screams that bore one similar trait; the word 'Griever'. It was then that the Glade seemed to fully understand what was about to happen, and at that moment everything erupted into chaos.

The Grievers, sticky and bellowing as they rolled after the scampering Gladers, spared no time allowing anyone to hide before they wreaked havoc on the makeshift village. Boys were running left and right trying to find a safe spot to shield themselves before they were swallowed up by the creatures they had only heard about in stories for their time in the Glade. Even those who had faced the Grievers – four of which were still standing – were equally as petrified as the rest. The entire community was in panic, trying to save each other and themselves as Grievers began to tear everything apart. Wooden huts were destroyed and fires were lit as the boys tried to torch the creatures to no avail, and it was only seconds until the victims started to stack up. Screams of the defenseless boys tore through the night sky, causing even more confusion and terror among those who were trying to protect themselves.

Inka, Newt, Frypan and Minho had furiously picked up the pace of their weapon collection upon realization of what was occurring, and despite the rapid beating of their hearts managed to load themselves up with as many lethal knives and spears as they could carry and begin to run. Inka, who could not feel her own heart beating in her chest thanks to the fear and adrenaline that was coursing through her veins, was trying desperately to hold herself together. The screeching and slithering of the horrid creations was all around her in her mind, following her as she ran alongside Minho and tried to focus on the pinpoint of boys ahead of her that they were moving towards rather than the possibility of the Grievers stalking behind them. Her brain had memorized the noises, teasing her with the reminder that her months here were not the first time she had heard or seen them and that it was up to her to remember where she knew these terrible creatures from. It was not long, however, until they ended up being right in front of her nose.

"INKA!" Newt's roaring shout of her name wracked through her mind, causing her to stumble and let out a screech of horror when a Griever came barreling towards her closer than what she would have liked.

The British boy, who had been lugging a giant spear behind his back and yielding two massive machetes, watched as Frypan and Minho threw two wooden spears into the creatures. Without thinking, Inka hurled the flamed torch she had been carrying towards the center of it's mass as well before running the other way, realizing that Thomas's group had rejoined theirs albeit missing several boys. She tried not to analyze the faces that were not in the Gladers' ranks, instead running alongside the blurs of figures and realizing that the creature she had tossed her torch at was writhing in pain, flames erupting from it's mechanical oozing form. Inka stopped abruptly in her tracks, falling behind the group as soon as the thought clicked in her mind. She barely registered Newt's despaired cry of her name as she ran in the opposite direction of the Gladers, picking up another left behind torch as she flew towards the remaining Griever that they had been running from. It took a moment for her to try and figure out what she was going to do, but surprisingly enough her thought process flowed like a river released from it's dam and she took a hard right soon enough after she had impaled the flaming object into what she hoped had been the centre of the Griever's form. The creature screeched again and flopped around in pain, trying to put out the fire by thumping itself against the ground but failing miserably.

At this point Inka did not know how many were left, but still heard multiple cries of anguish in the distance that signaled the creatures were still attacking. Determined, the tiny Brit headed off in the direction of the noise and this time armed herself with two flaming torches left by the fire pit. She pushed herself as hard as possible, forcing out the reminder in her brain that she had abandoned her friends and instead convinced herself that her efforts were worth whatever risk she was taking. She did not, however, expect to be grasped in the back by an unknown force and thrown against a nearby tree.

The air left her lungs with a large 'woosh' as her body slammed into the ground, torches having fallen meters away from her and nearly teasing her with their distance. The perpetrator of her injury howled in all it's sliming glory right in front of her face, stinger out and ready to attack. Inka barely had time to roll out of the way before it jammed it into the ground where she had been resting moments ago, causing her to jump to her feet and dart towards the nearest torch. Her first attempt failed, partly because a second Griever appeared out of the corner of her eye and caused her to run in the opposite direction, but upon her second attempt at grabbing the other torch she succeeded and immediately sprinted for the fire pit. She was again fixed with a feeling of deja vu, but could not describe why these creatures felt all too familiar for a person who had only inhabited their landscape for two months. The thought was abruptly shoved out of her mind when she reached the firepit and turned, surprised to find the two creatures further back than what she had imagined.

As soon as the dribbling, rolling monsters came close enough for her to take a good aim however, she fired off the only torch she had grabbed and pelted it with nearby lanterns. The boxes of fire were heavier than what she had expected, but Inka used whatever strength she had left in her arms to hurl them towards the Grievers – one of them approaching her quite quickly and the other writhing in a painful ball of fire. She concentrated her efforts on the one that seemed most alive, and with a last flaming lantern to it's slimy centre she took off running once more. Her legs pumped harder, weaving in between the structures that the Gladers had created to shelter their cleaning area and causing extreme frustration to the Griever who was howling more and more with every step she took. Soon enough she had reached another small clearing, one she understood to be the slaughterhouse. At this point the shouts of the boys were growing rarer, and Inka realized that something must have happened with the other members of the Glade. Nevertheless, this did not deter the Griever that was chasing after her, and the British girl darted into the wooden slicer hangout to try and find a weapon.

The blade, as it turned out, found her.

The giant machete, thicker than those that Newt had been bearing when he had traveled alongside her mere minutes ago, stuck out to her like a sore thumb in the middle of all the bloody mess that was the slicer hut. She quickly armed herself with the weapon and tried to stay as silent as possible to try and catch the Griever off guard by creeping around the back entrance of the makeshift wooden hut. She succeeded in her mission, finding that the creature was practically sizzling and waiting near the entrance of the hut for her to pop out again, and she took her opportunity to engage it as quietly as possible from behind. It took several seconds for her to get over to it's position without making a sound, but upon reaching it's disgusting form she raised her blade up high and stabbed it with all of her might.

The creature screamed, letting out a horrible noise that Inka could only describe as sheer agony as Griever slime spewed out of the slice that the girl tugged her knife out of. She was too distracted by the revolting display of gooey innards that she barely noticed it's tail whipping around to grasp her, and let out a scream as she was thrown towards one of the slicer hut's walls. The Griever quickly mounted her, giant oozing body overwhelming her small form and preparing to mutilate her until she performed the unthinkable with her small shaking limbs. With one final roar, she drove the blade in her hand upwards towards the stomach of the creature and tried to prepare herself for what would quite possibly be the ending blow to her life.

It did not come; the beast had instead turned it's attention to a screech similar to it's own far in the distance, and dismounted Inka to scamper off in the direction of the closest Eastern entrance of the maze despite being very obviously injured. It's stomach and back still oozed slime, spilling as it rolled away it all it's horrifying glory and made screeching groans of complaints.

Inka slumped against the wall the Griever had pinned her too, petrified beyond words and allowing the adrenaline to course through her veins for as long as it needed. Her heart beat soared as her energy levels depleted, failing to keep up with the organ that was motivated by total fear. She panted harshly, hands still gripping the thick machete without relent until she could literally feel her fingers burning in complaint. Her arms were covered in Griever slime, still sticky and oozing everywhere as she slouched against the side of the slicer hut and tried to focus on her intense breathing that refused to calm itself down.

Thomas, on the other hand, was all the way on the other side of the Glade and unknowingly feeling very similar to the girl at that point in time. He could feel himself losing consciousness as he slipped into the brink of the beyond, but he felt much more tranquil than what he had expected. It was as if he was arriving on a shore, safe and sound after a long journey filled with confusing waters and deep seas. The lull of memories was soft, greeting him like an old friend as he watched through eyes that he did not feel were his own.

 _Teresa's voice, a facility manned with many computers and an eerie woman clad in white filtered through his eyes and ears. Voices were speaking to him, telling him that WCKD was good and that WCKD was not good until one blurred over the other and he felt lost in the dark despite the fluorescent lighting of the dream. He saw his own friends in tanks, blue filling their crevices until they passed into the world of the Glade without a memory to their name. Alby's voice, Teresa's face and his own suddenly bombarded him, and he stared at himself in surprise when his own body, also clad in a peculiar shade of white, looked back at him. He could feel himself asking questions, questioning his morals and the entire process of whatever calculations he was controlling on the screen in front of him until it was whisked away once again and the eerie woman stood before him._

" _WCKD is good, Thomas," She repeated, drilling the phrase into his memory until he could not feel anything else._

 _More faces shone before him on the screens, numbers and ratios beside the profiles and body scans that had somehow landed there without his knowledge._

 _"You did this!" Ben's voice, but much closer to his current conscience._

 _"I saw you!" Alby's voice, equally as close._

 _"I can't keep watching them die," His own voice, but muffled and foreign sounding. Then, out of nowhere, a burst of light exploded beside him and a body collided with his, squirming and writhing. He turned almost sluggishly, not having expected the nearly peaceful memory to be abruptly interrupted, until he recognized the face he was looking at. The bright grey eyes and tiny figure that had collided with his were all too familiar, but he could not force her name out of his real mouth no matter how much effort he put into it. Her expression was a mix of terror and determination, sweat dripping down her face as she scrambled to move away from him. Although he could not utter her name he knew he had examined her own brain and knew it piece by piece, her very nervous system that was working so very hard to get her out of the situation she was in at the moment. He had seen her behind a glass wall, safe from the terrors he and tens of others had subjected her to. He knew her top to bottom; the way she functioned and made decisions and what she could bring to the table in any kind of situation that occurred outside the safe walls that they were currently enclosed in. She was real, in the dream and in the facility his memory had been placed in, all the researchers – or so they seemed to be despite the sinister feeling of the dream – staring at her small frame on the floor in shock. It was not long before she was ripped away by dark figures Thomas somehow knew not to interfere with, struggling just as hard as she had been before and all but disappearing from his vision. Teresa looked at him almost sadly, as if she knew what sort of fate had been decided for the girl, before resuming her work and pretending as though the incident had not occurred._

" _Teresa, why are we doing this?" His past self questioned the actions of his very fingertips as they pressed against the foreign controls on the brightly lit blue screen, feeling a gear in his mind kick into play as soon as a hand was pressed onto his shoulder._

" _Excellent Thomas. Come with me," The woman whispered in an equally muffled voice as his, and Thomas found himself effortlessly following her instructions without a doubt in his mind. It was like being in a sleeping state of mind; he did not have to choose what to do and simply followed a thread that was placed simply before him, giving the illusion of a sound goal. Although relaxing, there was still a part of his brain that shoved against it and Thomas could not decide whether to be upset with it or listen to it. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was on an operating table; masked surgeons staring down at him as if he was one of the patients. Several of them looked concerned, frightened almost. He could barely hear it, but one was muttering about the time being too late; someone already having found something – that if they did not hurry they would not make it._

Thomas did not get the chance to understand what they were talking about because before he could even muster the words in his throat he was wide awake, and thrust back into reality as if he had been reborn all over again. His eyes opened first, trying to adjust to the light all over again as they were met with brown.

"Thomas?" It took a minute for Thomas's brain to register that Teresa's voice was the one speaking to him, and that he was lying in the very familiar makeshift prison that the Gladers had constructed looking up at the most recent arrival's face. Everything came rushing back; the attack on the Glade, Gally's anger, his choice to pick up the Griever's stinger and stab himself in the abdomen...he could feel a sore spot on his abdomen where he assumed he had foolishly implanted the sharp spear. "Hey."

"What the shuck were you thinking?" Chuck's voice floated down from above, and he tore his eyes off of Teresa's smiling face to latch his attention onto the three boys – Chuck, Newt and Minho – that were crouched outside of the pit's door.

"What happened?" Thomas sat up carefully and looked around, noticing Inka's form huddled in the corner. She was shaking slightly, vibrating as if someone had tensed her muscles to the point where she was about to snap if they did not release. It was not until Thomas noticed her eyes, wide and alive and fixated on one point in thin air, that he recognized she was in shock.

"Gally's taken control," Newt bit a fingernail, eyes flitting between Thomas and Inka as he watched for any signs that the girl was coming out of her shocked state. The relief he had felt when he and Minho had found her near the slicer's hut had been stronger than any emotion he had ever felt in his life, and it took all he had to remain calm instead of shake her back and forth and ask her what she had been thinking. His voice was tense and concerned, as he had been the one to carry her towards the med-jack hut so that they could treat her for shock only to find that Gally was just as angry with her as he was with Thomas, and wanted her placed in the pit. "He said we had a choice. Either join him, or get banished at sundown with you, Teresa and..."

Five pairs of eyes snapped onto Inka's form, who seemed to vibrate even harder as she stared into space.

"Inka," Newt called brokenly, trying to make eye contact with the seemingly catatonic girl again and desperate for her to look at him from behind the bars of the pit. "Inka? Oh...for shuck's sake."

To the surprise of everyone the British boy quickly untied the restraints holding the cage together and entered it, disregarding the fact that he was likely to get spotted because of his desperation to be close to Inka. Bypassing Thomas and Teresa, who sat watching his actions curiously – and somewhat cautiously considering the fact that Gally had made it very clear who was to be in charge from now on - he made his way over to the tiny girl in the small space. She had occupied the furthest corner, curling herself up into a ball and obviously trying to make herself seem as compact as possible. Her eyes, although alive and alert, were staring off into the distance as if she was watching an intense match between two vicious opponents.

"Inka," Newt's tone changed from it's usual rough demeanor to a much softer one as he placed himself right next to her form, each part of his left side meeting her right all the way down to their legs pressed together side by side. The others watched as he wrapped a long arm around the vibrating girl, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to try and get rid of her shivers and relax her muscles before turning his neck and gently speaking into her ear. "Calm, alright? Calm. You're okay – everything's gonna be alright."

Although the process was slow her vibrations gradually stopped, and at one point she even let out a relieved huff of breath and slumped slightly against Newt's frame which supported hers easily. He clenched his jaw, accepting her head that smoothly fell into the crook of his neck and silently cursing – for what seemed to be the billionth time since his arrival in the Glade three years ago – whoever had placed them here.

"Is she gonna be alright?" Thomas asked quietly after about a minute, not sure whether or not the moment was appropriate to interrupt but slightly pressed for time as the memories were about to explode from his head at any second.

Newt gave him a short nod of his head as he continued to hold the British she-bean.

"The others agreed to all this?" The not so new arrival stood slowly, not wanting to alarm the British girl who was now safely tucked into Newt's side as he tried to deal with his own surprise that the Gladers had been so quick to dismiss him as the culprit to all these problems. From what it seemed like, these boys were starving for someone to blame and had been quick to pick him and Inka.

"Gally has everyone convinced that you two are the reason this has happened," Teresa looked at the two sadly, as if she had not wanted to admit the information. Inka did not meet her eyes, nor show any sign that she had heard the other girl speak and merely continued to stare off into the distance as she rested against her British counterpart.

"Well," Thomas's heart shook slightly as he stared towards Inka, dreading revealing any information to her. She seemed so fragile already that he was not sure actually telling her information would help her mental state, but he knew that the others needed to know. "He's been right so far."

"What are you talking about?" Minho narrowed his eyes, still crouched beside Chuck at the door of the cage.

"This place – it's not what we thought it was," He began to explain, fully understanding that with his explanation there was a possibility that he could turn everyone against him. "It's not a prison; it's a test."

At that, Inka straightened and met Thomas's eyes coolly. The boy stopped for a minute, stilling at her reaction and trying to decipher her stance before continuing cautiously. He was aware he was treading on a dangerous subject, but he needed to reveal what he knew to help the situation.

"They'd give us tests – we were experiments," The short inhalation of air, Thomas realized after hjs statement, had come from a paling Inka. Still, he pressed on, convinced that he was doing good by admitting these things to his friends. "And then they would get a swipe – disappeared from wherever we were staying and we'd never see them again. They sent up a big group first, and then every month one more would disappear."

"Sending us up to the maze?" Chuck asked, looking between Thomas and Inka nervously.

"Yeah," Thomas nodded, looking towards the British girl himself as he spoke again. "But not all of us."

"What do you mean?" Newt tore his eyes off the tiny girl pressed into side, rapidly growing more and more nauseous by the second as information flowed out of her running partner's mouth. She had known – she had always known. The thought had been buried somewhere in the dark corners of her dusty mind; labeled useless by intruders she could not name, but she had always known.

"I was one of them," Thomas nearly choked back a sob, trying to understand how his past self had been so cruel and manipulative to agree to such horrid tests. Had his morals been wiped from his brain? Had he been coerced into doing such malicious actions under threat of death? Who was the real culprit? It could not have been him. "The people who put you here...I worked with them. I watched you guys for years – the entire time you've been here I was on the other side of it."

Amidst the horrified glances of all five Gladers sitting around him – minus Inka who simply looked sick to her stomach – Thomas simply gazed at Teresa.

"And so were you," He revealed to her, not wanting to leave anything out of his story.

"What?" She muttered, purposely trying to accept his truth as a farce at first.

"Teresa, we did this to them," He continue, shaking his head in shame at what his past self had been a part of – what _they_ had been a part of.

"No," She denied weakly, tears shining in her eyes as she looked towards each of the boys – and the only other girl – around her. "T-that can't be true."

"It is true," Thomas refused to let her believe a lie. "I saw it. I saw every one of their faces – I sat and watched her," He pointed towards Inka who was about ready to vomit at the moment. "Run through these fake maze trials filled with test Grievers for three years until they sent her up here. I watched all of you get swiped, I watched all of you get sent up here nearly drowned. I knew all of your brains like the back of my hand – and now we're all here."

At this point, the small British girl promptly vomited loudly in the space between her legs, puke expelling itself from her throat and pooling on the ground as if it had been waiting there all day specifically for the moment to arise. Her reaction to Thomas's recollection of their past lives surprised all those around her, and Newt quickly sprung into action to move her away from her mess and do his best to calm her down by telling her to focus on his voice. Her breathing had picked up again and she had paled significantly, spiking concern amongst those surrounding her. She gagged again, retching violently as more vomit forced it's way out of her throat before her body finally ceased it's expulsions and she was left panting in the wake of sickness with strings of spit pooling out of her mouth.

"What's wrong with her?" Chuck gripped the bamboo door of the cage's pit, worry coating his features as he tried to understand the situation.

"Nothing is wrong with her," Newt grunted as he picked up the small girl as gently as possible and moved her to the other side of the cage where there was no pile of vomit, face tight with concentration and concern. "She's just having a bloody panic attack."

The Gladers watched once more as the British boy set down the tiny runner and repeated the familiar process of calming her down, murmuring in her ear that everything was going to turn out all right and that they were all going to be okay. He tried to distract her from the current situation, telling her that she was going to see the real sky again – not the sky through the dome that they were stuck under each and every day – and get to feel real rain on her cheeks. He tried to remind her that what was in the past was in the past, and that the creatures that had constantly been in her life for so long were not going to lay a slimy limb on her for one second as long as she was surrounded by her friends. He assured her that she would be protected and safe and that in the end they would be alright, even though he knew there was no truth behind his statements. He supposed Inka knew that as well, but to Newt's surprise her breathing had slowed with his words and meticulous rubbing of her shoulders, and her palor had decreased significantly.

"Why would they send us up here if we were with them?" Teresa asked as soon as Inka's breathing had gone down and she was somewhat calmed down thanks to Newt.

"It doesn't matter," Thomas shook his head, realizing that his actions after being placed in the maze were the only things that shaped his true personality; the free one that was being tested at this very moment.

"He's right," Newt clenched his jaw once more and spoke through his teeth, trying to remind himself that despite the fact that Thomas had been an assistant in creating this entire mess and torturing not only himself but Inka for three years, the boy had good intentions after his 'rebirth' in the cage. "It doesn't matter. Any of it. The people we were before the maze; they don't even exist anymore. The creators took care of that," Newt tightened his grip on Inka as soon as he felt her tense at his words. "What matters is who we are now, and what we do right now."

He held the sole person who was responsible for reigniting his hope and passion in finding a way out of the maze tightly, trying to push away the angry thought in the back of his head that told him to scream and shout at the fact that this had all been some sort of silly test that someone was indeed watching from the outside – wherever 'outside' was.

"When Inka first ran into the maze I thought we'd lost her," Newt spoke about the girl as if she was not sitting beside him, which he imagined would have been rather frustrating to her if she was not still in a shocked state of mind. "But she came back to help us – and she did more than we could imagine. Then you came along, Thomas, and you all found a way out of here together."

"But if we hadn't," Thomas argued, still wanting to admit that he was extremely at fault in the situation. "Alby would still be alive."

"Maybe," Newt hardened his facial expression upon mention of their leader who had been ripped away from them during the Griever's attack in the Glade. This was certainly the creator's cruel way of eliminating their only source of stability in the makeshift society they had forged, and instilling the fact that they were no longer safe in their green haven. "But I know that if he were here he would be telling you the exact same thing I'm telling you; you two started something you've got to finish. I can't tell you how much hope this she-bean," He held Inka tighter, fixing Thomas with an intense gaze. "Has put inside of me, just from trying. If there's one thing she's taught us, it's that you've got to pick up your bloody arse back up where you started off and keep pushing until you get somewhere. 'Cause if you don't and we do nothing, Alby will have died for nothing. Nick and George will have died for nothing, and so will the rest of the boys that killed themselves trying to find answers just like we did three years ago. All of those boys – all of that death, would mean nothing. I can't have that."

Newt's speech had moved Inka, as the girl had never realized what she had meant to the boy until he very clearly spelled it out for her. For her, pushing and pushing until she found answers seemed very simple – but she could only imagine that the process took it's mental toll after awhile and began to affect the people in the Glade after three years, especially when they had been hunting for clues they never found. She had hardly realized what sort of impact she had had on the boys until this moment, and looked up towards Newt in wonder as she felt a swell of importance rise in her chest. Wherever she had come from – if Thomas had been telling the truth – it had been a dreadful nightmare-breeding place full of dread and hurt. No matter the amount of times her brain was swiped, the physical memories and the overall sense of recognition towards something would not go away. Inka's brain did not fail her, and instead pushed her towards her quest to find answers and riddle out what had been done to her.

Newt gazed back at her, eyes warming and lips pursing slightly as he suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to be closer to her in a way he could not describe. Her eyes were shining as though she had spotted him for the first time all over again, and he lost himself in the swirls of stormy grey that sat between him and her intense mind. He felt a pull that started near his stomach and spread throughout his whole body, basking him in a warm glow until he was forced to suppress a shudder because of the feeling. Newt was not sure if she had reacted this way because of his words, but to him it did not matter because they were true in his heart and she was gazing at him as if he was the only thing in the universe at the moment.

"Okay," Thomas shakily agreed, somewhat motivated by Newt's faith in Inka and the British girl finally coming back to reality, although distracted by the boy sitting closest to her. "Okay – but we've got to get through Gally first."


	9. Abandonment

**Abandonment**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.** **  
**

The plan was in action.

The six Gladers who were planning the final confrontation with Gally had taken the time to organize their plan of attack, deciding that they would let the Keeper of the builders take control of Teresa, Inka and Thomas up until they were at the entrance of the maze. At that point, the six had discussed that Thomas would be knocked 'unconscious' by either Newt or Minho as to catch them off guard previous to their transport towards the stone walls, and take control at the last moment before the banishment. Chuck would be nearby carrying as many weapons and supplies as he could salvage from the steaming wreckage that was the Glade, ready to hand them to whoever would decide to join their escape, whilst Teresa and Inka remained captive and would distract Gally long enough for Thomas to establish when to gain control of the situation. Newt and Minho stayed behind, pretending to fall into the steps behind Gally as to fool him into thinking that they had caved and somehow seen the situation from his point of view. The truth was that many of the boys did not agree with the banishment of Thomas, Teresa and Inka and were less than willing to participate in the task. There were however, several older boys still agreed with Gally's barbaric way of punishing and were more than happy to escort the three offenders of the Glade out towards the gates rather roughly.

"This is such a waste," Gally muttered as the two girls and one boy were brought to the centre of the sand pile where two poles had been shoved into the ground rather unceremoniously. Inka and Teresa made very little struggle against their captors, matching the glare that Gally was shooting at them.

"Gally," A very nervous looking Winston called uncertainly from his spot several paces behind the Keeper of the builders, recently crowned leader. "This doesn't feel right at all man."

"What if Thomas is right?" Jeff questioned from his spot beside the Keeper of the slicers, looking equally as anxious as he and Frypan shared a concerned glance. "What if he can lead us home?"

"We are home," Gally stalked towards the med-jack somewhat wearily, fixing him with a gaze that seemed almost eerily desperate to convince. "Okay? I don't want to have to cross any more names off that wall."

"And what," Teresa scoffed from her spot near Inka where she was being held by a long haired Glader neither of them could identify. "Banishing us is going to solve something?"

"No," Gally stated very simply, turning back towards the girl with the long black hair. "This isn't a banishing. It's an offering."

"What?" Inka and Teresa shared a wild, panicked glance but did not have enough time to react before both of their captors began to tie their hands to one of the large poles near the Northern entrance. Inka caught Newt's furious eyes briefly, giving him a slight shake of her head as she silently reminded him that the situation was still under their control. "Wait! Gally, what are you doing?!"

"You really think I'm gonna let those two back into the maze after what they've done?!" The new leader roared, making the British girl jerked slightly as his anger flared out of nowhere and then grunt in pain when her captor tightened the ropes on her wrists. This nearly made Newt crumble and ruin the entire escape plan, as he realized he could barely stand seeing Inka in any sort of pain and was nearly overwhelmed with the deep desire to lunge at Robert as to tackle him down. "Look around you, look at our Glade! This is the only way! And when the Grievers get what they came here for everything will go back to the way it was. I promise."

"That's a lie," Inka's tone rumbled out from behind Gally, and his back muscles tensed with stress. If there was one thing that he did not want to deal with that very day it was the she-bean's excessive need to provide commentary on subjects he otherwise wished not to be commentated upon. "They picked off Alby – you don't know who they want next. They're going to keep coming back, and you know what else? The letters on the inside of the Grievers is the same as the plated on our supplies – that means whoever is helping us is hurting us!"

"Shut up," Gally growled somewhat viciously towards the girl, eyes flashing dangerously and causing Newt to tense visibly. At this point he was bursting with adrenaline to send a well-earned smack to either Gally, who was now yelling at his comrades to tie an unconscious Thomas up, and Robert, who was looking supremely ignorant at that very moment. "Can't you shanks listen? Tie him up!"

Several things happened at once after Gally's two uncertain 'inferiors' – at this point it was fair to call them that as Alby had never treated any of the Gladers in this fashion before and Gally seemed more of a dictator to the green place than anything – approached the seemingly unconscious boys body.

Thomas suddenly erupted from his place on the ground, delivering punches and kicks to the two boys who were trying to restrain him and breaking free just in time to take hold of one of their massive sticks. He wielded it expertly, knocking aside both of his attackers and waited until Frypan burst from the sidelines to free both Inka and Teresa as well as handing them weapons to back up towards the maze. It was at this point that Newt and Minho moved forward, also joining Thomas near the entrance to the Northern doors and beating down whichever one of Gally's so-called 'friends' that stood in the way with the butts of their machetes. Gally moved to retaliate, but upon seeing that he was fastly approaching Teresa, the British female beside her grabbed her large machete Frypan had tossed her and held it towards the Keeper of the builders. Gally ceased his movements, fully aware that Inka was fairly unpredictable and unlikely to take mercy on him if he tried anything funny. He looked between the two girls, one taking a protective stance over the other whilst the latter gripped Inka's shirt for protection, and frowned deeply. Newt also watched their interaction, noticing how Teresa clearly entrusted Inka with her protection whilst his British counterpart shielded her with one of her arms. Chuck quickly darted over with the pack of supplies, handing them out fairly quickly amongst the rebel group and waiting upon further instruction.

A silence sat upon the group of teenagers.

"You're full of surprises," Gally spread his arms in disbelief, anger having apparently dissipated and instead replaced by a suspicious tranquility.

"You don't have to come with us," Thomas spat out, still wielding the stick in an offensive stance. "But we _are_ leaving."

"Anyone who wants to come with us," Inka called out, moving her and Teresa further away from the boys and closer to the entrance where Newt quickly tugged her towards him. She still held out her giant machete in the direction of Gally, muscles tensed and ready to snap at any moment. "Now is the time to run – we know the way out."

"Don't listen to her, alright?" Gally stopped the boys behind him from moving by holding out a hand. "She's just trying to scare you."

"No," Inka moved forward slightly, tightening her grip on her machete and letting her anger fuel her words. "No one is trying to scare you – you are already scared. I am scared. But listen to me - if you do not feel fear, then you are not alive and you are not human! Look around you, there is a dome over your head and walls as far as you can see; there is no way out but these doors."

She could see several of the boys behind Gally looking towards the ground in what seemed to be a sort of guilty realization that they had tried to ignore and shove to the back of their minds.

"And what, you're gonna take your chances with the maze?!" Gally nearly snorted, spreading his arms wide as if to try and make her sound out of wack.

"It's a puzzle, Gally!" She finally snapped, anger fueled by his ignorance or refusal to acknowledge the truth. "Don't you see?! It's a puzzle – someone is playing a game with us, and we are LOSING! If you would rather rot in this magical snow globe, go ahead. This is not a home, this is not a haven – this is a test, this is a trap we were put in and we can make it out. We know the way out, so I'm taking my chances with this lot." She motioned to the five people standing by her, slightly shocked to see Newt's eyes look so intense in the moment as he stared towards her passionately. "Who else is?"

One by one, boys she knew and boys she did not know came forward to join the ranks of the Gladers choosing to abandon their temporary home, muttering apologies to Gally as they passed by the sullen boy. Her heart almost felt as though it was about to beat out of her chest with the sheer adrenaline she was feeling at the moment, although she could not imagine what these boys were feeling if they were choosing to abandon the only home they had known after so long. Inka could see it in their faces that they were reluctant to go, but understood the logic behind leaving and were fueled by their desire to have their questions answered. It was obvious that these boys were now accepting the fact that they could not stay in the Glade forever.

"It's over Gally," Thomas tried to reason with the boy, lowering his attacking stick and meeting the ex-builder's eyes evenly. "Just come with us."

"Good luck against the Grievers," Gally stated, surprisingly not sarcastic for once as he watched the boys who he had known for two years turn their back on him and abandon their only form of a home they currently knew. Newt lingered for a moment, looking back on the peaceful enclosure and feeling his heart sink as he watched all the boys who had chosen not to come with them, Gally included. There had to be answers out there somewhere, and the indescribable tug in his stomach told him to follow the precious British she-bean instead of stick to what he had known for three years. Change was good. Change meant progress. Inka had helped him see the light once more, and he was not letting that go for a second time. He had made his decision, and it lay with her.

"Why would you care about us going back into the maze Gally?" Inka took a step closer to the new leader of the Glade before she ran off after the group, knowing fully well she would have no problems catching up. "If you were so willing to sacrifice us, why are you trying to stop us from finding answers?"

"Just go," His defeated tone rang clear as he shook his head, refusing to meet her eyes as he knew that she would see the truth in them. "Please."

Inka's jaw tightened as she realized that he had made his final decision – somewhat disheartened by the fact that the boy hadn't come around in the end and that she had not been able to figure out what was so off about him - and she swiftly turned on her heel to face the maze. If she could not pry answers out of Gally she would have to escape – just like she had always meant to – with whoever wanted to come with her in tow. It was then, with a final breath of determination, that Inka stepped foot outside of the Glade for a final time. She hurriedly made her way after the group, who had already made their way halfway down the entry corridor and was preparing to make a right with Minho in the lead. She gave one last longing look to the green place behind her, fully coming to face the fact that she had no idea what the outside world had come to and it was very possible that they could have been placed inside the utopic cage for the survival of humanity. Still, the burning desire to solve the puzzle that had been laid out for her was something she could not turn away from, and so she willed herself to run faster to catch up with the group of runaway Gladers.

Upon reaching the group she decided to flank the back, making sure that no one fell behind and that everyone was accounted for in case anything unexpected happened. Newt took the position beside her, and Inka took the spare time as the group ran through the inner sections of the maze to study how his limp affected his walk. It was clear at this point that a grave injury had occurred, although she deduced that it would have had to be something devastating for his leg to have permanently displayed such a disability. He met her gaze several times, knowing that her eyes were following him and hoping that her questions could wait until a more appropriate time.

She did not let him down, and the two focused on breathing as they followed Minho along the easiest route to sector 7 – the sector that the Keeper of the runners had decided was easiest to get to and escape from, especially since the door had been activated already and confirmed to function properly. The group ran through the giant walls that only four of them were familiar with, looking around in awe at the vast structures that were the cause of all the noises they had heard during their time in the Glade. Such fascination was ironic, Inka thought, as the beauty of such a creation was not the fact that it was impressive to look at but because it was a perfected killing machine that had taken the lives of many. Thankfully however, after several hours of the same pace with very little breaks or interruption – at one point Minho had to stop and check which rotation the maze was in whilst Chuck complained of needing to use the toilet – but otherwise the team moved fairly fast. They eventually approached the blades, where once more the Gladers who had not encountered the maze before were avidly distracted by the large blades that stuck up to the sky. Their tall rusted structures provided awkward rows of shade on the stony ground as the group ran through them, thankful that the maze was not shifting and that they could stick together in one large group. Unfortunately, this would not be the case for the entirety of their escape.

As soon as the final corridor to the discovered passageway was revealed, Thomas stopped the group with one of his hands. The Gladers crowded behind the wall as he looked around the corner for any threats, and darted his head back as soon as his eyes spotted the only thing in between the group and the exit out of the maze. It was a Griever, slithering and oozing in all of it's slimy glory as it stood right in front of the large stone slate with the door fused onto the bottom of it.

"Is there a Griever?" Chuck looked up towards Thomas in fear, expecting his worst nightmares to be true. For a boy of his age however, many of the group had been surprised that he had put up such a brave front.

"Yeah," Thomas took a deep breath, and Inka quickly peeked her head around the corner to make sure that it was only one. Her somewhat relieved grimace did nothing to assure the rest of the group, but it still reminded her that the situation could have been worse.

"Shit."

"Take this Chuck," Minho passed the key to the door – the heart of the Griever that Inka had stolen out from Thomas' dead gooey friend – to the younger boy, watching as he turned it in his hands and looked up at the group rather nervously. "Stay behind us."

"It's okay," Inka assured as Chuck's frightened gaze met her cool grey eyes, swearing to protect him fervently in her head. "It'll be okay – you'll stay close to me, alright?"

"Okay," Thomas looked around at the group, gulping loudly and revealing his nerve. He did not enjoy putting his friends in danger, and had been sincerely hoping that despite the fact that today was escape day, the maze would go a little easier on them. This was not the case however, but such seemed to be life. "Once we're near the door it'll activate and open up – so we have to stay close together and we can get through this, all right? This is it – this is the last push."

There were brief nods all around as the group found their determination again, and Minho quickly flanked his newfound friend as the group burst into the corridor with loud bellows as to frighten the Griever. This did not seem to be possible at first, but the creature chittered almost nervously when it saw the sheer amount of attackers running towards it. Inka caught Newt's eyes for a split second before he surged ahead of her, and she found herself struggling to fight the urge to follow along and face the Greiver head on instead of support Chuck in the back. She quickly erased the thought from her mind as she rationalized that the thought was unfair and that she could not abandon the boy holding the only key that matched the seventh sector, so she slipped out the large machete from the back of her pack and braced herself for a fight. The ugly monsters were not going to go down without a battle, so a battle she was prepared to give them.

"Look out!" Spears collided with heavy machinery, and the creature bellowed and hissed as it was shoved back by the various spears shoved in it's direction. Everyone tried to avoid the Griever's snapping arms, lunging towards the group as if they were tiny morsels of food. "Again! Push it over!"

There was another struggle as the Gladers found themselves horizontally placed on the thin corridor, chasm slightly too close for comfort on their backs as the threat in front of them loomed to push them all over the edge. It was not long before Minho shouted out to watch for the tail, and the group managed to avoid the first several swings before a builder on the far right was captured and swung off to the side. His screams followed him as he fell down into the abyss that was the gaping chasm on either side of the corridor the group stood on, and they all stared in horror before redirecting their attention to the monster that had just murdered one of their friends. This seemed to motivate everybody further, and it looked as though they were going to eliminate their only obstacle by shoving it off the edge of the bridge like structure until Chuck gave a shout. Teresa had whacked away one of the creatures limbs, but had accidentally hit the key out of the younger boy's hands in the process of doing so.

"Chuck!" Inka shouted after the boy, running after him as he darted for the key that was about to roll over the edge. The British girl's heart stopped for a second, hoping that their entire mission had not been jeopardized and ready to redirect the group to the third sector in the case of a back up escape plan, but reached the boy just in time for him to grab onto the mechanical device.

"Pull me up, pull me up!" He was crying, and Inka did her best despite the monstrosity she saw crawling towards her from the chasm. She had known that the Grievers could clamber up the walls – after all that was the entire reason she had known that the Glade was some sort of programmed safe zone – but she had not even predicted that they could emerge from the depths like so.

"Teresa!" Inka cried towards the other female, realizing that she would not be able to support both her and Chuck near the edge and that her strength was weaning. Teresa quickly ran over to the struggling pair, assisting to pull Chuck up and then pulling them towards the end of the corridor as fast as possible, where the boys had successfully pushed the first Griever off of the bridge.

"THOMAS!" Chuck screamed, sprinting as fast as he could towards the protection of the older group of boys, knowing fully well that if he had seen one new Griever coming up the wall underneath him there could definitely be more.

"We got more coming!" Thomas roared to alert the group, spotting two Grievers slobbering and rolling after Chuck, Teresa and Inka. Newt was the first to attack, lunging forward to thrust a spear into the Griever's eye with deadly precision before grabbing Inka and shoving her behind him whilst Chuck and Teresa made it to safety behind Frypan. The action, performed without thought and very naturally, did not cause him to stop and ponder why he had done it. Instead he continued on, swearing to never let her out of his sight again as those several seconds where the Grievers had been on her tail had awoken a protective instinct inside of her that pulled him very strongly towards Inka.

"Keep it steady!" Minho grunted as the sounds of machetes and spears colliding with mechanical arms overwhelmed his ears.

The boys, plus Inka who had joined in the fight with her unusually large machete, were doing the best they could to hold back the beasts while Teresa and Chuck sprinted towards the door of the corridor to try and open it. It took milliseconds for the green device to activate the series of doors, and Chuck quickly called for the group to follow as him and Teresa ran through the newly opened corridor that granted them access to another metallic contraption. This time it looked more rustic, and sported a large circle in the center that blinked to life as soon as the group of Gladers backed up to try and reach it all the while trying to hold off the angry creatures. Teresa and Chuck looked at the electronics that buzzed to life as if they were from another planet, not knowing what to do when the bright green logo on the top right showed that a code was required to unlock the door.

"Hold them back!" Thomas cried as the group fighting off the Grievers was pushed back even further towards the door, nearly becoming overwhelmed and losing numbers rapidly as two more boys – one of which was Zart and another being a slicer – were sacrificed to the chasm thanks to the horrifying monsters' tails.

"Guys!" Teresa cried towards the group defending the doors as she realized that one of them had to know the sequence. "There's a code! 8 digits!"

"Eight sectors!" Inka cried as she drove her machete into one of the Griever's heads, listening to it screech in pain when she pulled it out and watching Winston effectively disable one of it's legs with his scythe. "It starts with seven, one and five! Minho – what's the rest of the order?!"

"Two!" The oriental boy bellowed out, trying to make himself understandable to Teresa as she punched the numbers into the screen whilst defending himself against the angry persistent Grievers. "Uh – Six! Four!"

He was violently interrupted when Newt's cry of attention signaled that there was another attack coming, however the British boy was only quick enough to grab Inka and pull her out of the way in time before the Griever sliding down the small shaft above the boys slammed Minho to the ground. He struggled, crying out in pain as he held its head away from his own with only the wooden spear. Without thinking, Jeff darted forwards and impaled his own spear into the Griever's head, allowing Minho the time to escape so that he could give the rest of the combination to Teresa but knowing fully well that he had sacrificed himself. Jeff's sounds of being mauled to death as the horrid slimy creature bit into the med-jack's stomach was quite possibly the worst noise that any of the Gladers had heard so far. Screams of pain and suffering were always constant, but having one of their friends murdered so close and so viciously up close was the turning point for the group to realize what they had gotten themselves into. It was this moment, or never.

"Eight!" Minho continued shouting as Newt pulled Inka into the circular exit, wrapping an arm around her midsection and parrying an attack from one of the Griever's limbs. He did not miss the way Inka cried out in fear. "Three! You got it?!"

"We've got nowhere to go!" Inka bellowed as she swiped at the beasts whenever they got too close, aware of Newt's firm grasp on her arm as she felt sweat drip down her cheeks.

"Keep holding!" Thomas roared as he threw one of his spears towards the head of the Griever rushing towards them. At this point he spotted several more joining the party, rolling and clanking in their ugly oozing mess as they made their way dangerously close to their hijacked hole. A sense of panic overtook him, and he felt his heart kick into hyper drive as he willed for something - anything - positive to happen.

"The door opened!" Chuck cried in disbelief, watching as the stone doors that had opened for them thanks to the mechanical beeping device rapidly closed in succession.

Each Griever – the Gladers could now count at least four of them at that point – became trapped and squished underneath the giant moving blocks. Two persevered after surviving the first set of shifting slates, their shrieks of pain and chitters of anger being all the group could hear. They watched the doors shift down, praying that they would be fast enough to catch the last Griever and holding their breath as Thomas threw his final spear towards the last remaining creature. His tactic was helpful enough to slow the monster down, and it took only a moment for it to become squished underneath the massive door.

It was then that the doors to the Griever hole violently slammed shut, encasing the Gladers in darkness and pushing them down a long chute as they gave another scream of terror.

Down and down into the darkness they fell, tumbling over each other and crying out in pain when their bodies collided, the only smell being the Griever slime that was lubricating their passage further down the hole. At one point Inka was sandwiched in between Teresa and Minho - as their cursing voices gave away - who both gave cries of pain when all three of them slammed against a wall and then were thrown back into the jumble of bodies. The tube did not seem to stop, as if it was sliding them into some kind of stomach of a large beast that used the maze as it's large mouth, and so the group continued to cry out in disorientation as they fell. Their movements did not stop for another minute, making Newt wonder how long they were to bear this torture until they each became concussed from the sheer amount of times they banged their heads on the walls of the long chute. Finally, Chuck's cry of 'watch out!' could be heard somewhere far ahead, and it took only seconds for the pile up of bodies to arrive at the bottom of the gooey slide.

There were various sounds of retching and stumbling as the Gladers tried to regain their bearings, sick to their stomachs with the stench of the tube and the lack of lighting. Everything was black; blacker than any darkness they had seen before and more mind blocking than anything.

Inka reflexively clutched Newt, who she knew to be beside her and heaved a heavy breath when she realized that for the most part the worst was most likely over. The ex-second in command held her tightly in the icky pitch black chamber, fearing the worst himself and hoping that they would be able to progress onto some answers soon. Inka shifted in the darkness, unnerved by the lack of words from the other Gladers despite their rapid breathing and reached out in front of her until she felt some sort of cool metal upon her fingertips. Newt tried to help, realizing that she had found something in the dark and upon feeling a circular mechanism to help open the door began to tug it and found that the metal began to loosen. The door eventually pried open, bathing the rather small area that was apparently where the Grievers resided in light.

"Careful," Teresa chastised the pair as Inka and Newt pushed the door open further, curiously staring out into the hallway before nodding to the sticky group that it was safe to clamber out of the holding chamber.

What greeted them was a long drab corridor, lined with blue tubes and bright lights that clanked on automatically as soon as they had all stepped out of the chamber. Inka swallowing harshly and clung to Newt as the group of Gladers gazed at the large hallway that enveloped them, beginning to move slowly as Thomas lead the way. All of their hearts still beat furiously, adrenaline coursing through their systems as they realized that they had stumbled into what was obviously a whole other world. The noises of dripping liquids and the sights of flickering lights accompanied them all the way to the end of the corridor until they reached a door marked with the letters 568-A4. Above the large metal plating was a green 'exit' sign, buzzing happily to light their way.

"Seriously?" Frypan nearly snorted, wondering if it was all a dream and he would wake up back in the Glade upon opening the door and seeing a live Griever behind it. It was almost ridiculous to have such a sign posted above a door – almost as if the entire process had been teasingly simple to get through and the answer was right on the other side of the Griever's resting place.

Upon opening the door however, it was clear that the larger picture was yet to reveal itself.

An alarm whooped in the distance, faint but recognizable, and the first body appeared to be a dead researcher still in his lab coat on the floor. His blood was splattered on the wall behind him, indicating that the attack had been by gunshot wound and that he was most definitely deceased. The Gladers blanched at this, trudging on with weary footsteps that seemed to grow heavier and more uncertain with every meter. Lights in the foreign looking facility were blown out, as if someone had thrown grenades or shot the fixtures, and steam was being released from pipes that looked like they had bullet marks on them as well. Inka gave a shudder as the group passed by what seemed to be an operating room, occupied by two patients who both had gunshot wounds in their abdomens. She stopped moving to regard them more closely, swearing that she could see one of them still breathing, but was distracted when Newt's warm hands gently grasped her shoulders and silently coaxed her onward. More bodies littered the floor as the group approached the main section of the strange new facility, placing everyone on high alert as they realized a threat could still be imminent.

"What happened?" Winston choked out, paling at the sight of a soldier clad in black with a bulletproof vest on and a gun still in his hand. Minho kicked the weapon out of the dead man's grip, grimacing ominously as he caught sight of all the broken glass and computers that lay ahead. The entire facility was lit up with blue and white undertones, giving off a very futuristic vibe opposite to the one he had been exposed during his time in the Glade.

The group slowly fanned out in the area, cautiously stepping over the strange amounts of bodies and checking to see if any were alive before gaping at all the screens before them. A stunned silence blanketed the group, only joined by curiosity towards the strange facility. The first image to catch Newt's eye was not the brain mappings or his own face on a monitor next to Frypan's and Inka's, but a live feed of the Glade where he could spot the still smoking stacks of buildings that the Grievers had destroyed. There were dozens of these feeds, he realized as he looked around, staring at all of the different angles that vary obviously hidden cameras had been spying on them at. Although the rest of the group were exploring the rooms silently, the British counterpart still spoke aloud and said what he was sure the others had found out about now considering the fact that these sorts of live feeds and images – regarding their personal information and brain imagery – were plastered all over the room.

"I knew it," Newt leaned against the desk, watching the monitor with a feeling of dread. Three years of suffering, anguish and misery – and people had been sitting on the other side doing nothing. For what? What had been the point? Was there any reason for their agony? "I knew those beetle blades were watching us."

He would not have time to answer his questions however, because there was soon another issue to draw his attention towards.

Newt barely acknowledged that Inka was moving away from him, but as soon as he heard her low inhale he approached the monitor she had reached sitting furthest away from the group he realized what she had found. It was her – her entire body mapped out and divided into sections to examine her muscle strength, brain activity and nerve functioning just like the rest of them. Beside the array of countless notes and complicated charts that the Gladers could not puzzle out, a large screen displayed statistics regarding her oxygen levels, her genetic coding and her bone structure as well as a detailed playback of her dashing through white corridors looking rather panicked. The number on the bottom right of the screen read 'trial eighty four' in small white letters, although it was only under scrutiny for a moment as Inka soon realized she was staring at herself run through an exact duplicate of the maze.

The walls were a horrid color of white, and another memory jerked through her as she realized that she remembered where she had recalled the Griever noises from. Her eyes widened in horror, mouth falling opened as she tried to hold back sobs when she saw her own form dart through corridor after corridor, just as she had done exceptionally well in the real version of the maze. She could not remember; there was no storage space in her brain that held the memories of her running through those white walls even though she could feel that she had been there. The screen was not lying to her – even though she would not have put it past the creators to invent such a fabrication. She clenched her fists together and willed her tears to go away as she saw her past self become entangled in a battle with a Griever, but promptly gave up and let the waterworks flow when she saw herself struggle out from underneath the creature with a large amount of blood on her face. The wounds, which undoubtedly were the same ones that matched the current-day scars on her face, were undeniable proof that these tapes were real.

There was no question now that this had been her fate before she had emerged in the Glade's box.

Before she knew it she was hurling her fists towards the computer, sheer agony overtaking her as she realized that she would never be able to remember and that her life had been robbed away from her. Even if she had had a past there was no way of going back to it; no way of breaking out of the memory wipe that had been given to her and why she had been selected – because there was no way on earth that she would have chosen to have been subjected to such heinous and unethical tasks – to perform such tests. There was no antidote; no going back – nothing. And for that, she was enraged. Again and again her fists beat down on the computer, doing as much damage as they could before she took out her machete and began to rip the precious advanced technology to pieces only to smash it against the floor with savage shrieks of fury.

Newt quickly tried to contain her, holding her arms back and allowing his own eyes to fall over her screens as several of the other Gladers rushed to help diffuse the situation. Many of their eyes met the screen as well, wondering what the problem was and realizing it just as soon as they spotted the tapes of her sprinting through endless white corridors with Grievers barreling after her. The bottom left of the screen, filled with information about her eye color, blood type and gender also included a testing number. That number was five, and Newt noted that next to it was a statement that read 'match to subject A-5'. Her number did not have a letter in front of it, but he frowned – despite Inka struggling fiercely in his arms and allowing sobs to shake her underweight frame – and wondered why she matched another test subject before redirecting his attention to calming the girl in question down. She eventually leaned against him in exhaustion, realizing just how tired and stressful the entire ordeal was and allowing her eyes to droop shut in misery as she continued to wail. Despite all this however, the most depressing thing was that her actions would have no effects on her original captors.

"Y-you -" Inka's eyes turned towards Thomas and Teresa after several minutes of the rest of the group looking towards her in pity, tone completely broken and desperate for answers. "Who d-did this? W-what is this? Why?"

Instead of answering however, Thomas took one remorseful look at her dejected facial expression before pressing the large red button on the screen in front of him with trembling fingers.

"Hello," A screen came to life in front of the boy, causing the rest of the Gladers to avert their attention to it and making Inka jolt in shock. "My name is Doctor Ava Paige. I'm Director of Operations of the World Catastrophe Killzone Department."

The woman clad in white on the brightly lit screen spoke to the group rather calmly through her lipstick lined mouth, blue eyes shining as she began to explain what was going on whilst her coworkers – the people who the Gladers assumed to be laying dead on the floor at this moment – worked behind her on fully functional monitors. The name of her company – World Catastrophe Killzone Department – was no doubt the longer version of 'WCKD'; the letters printed on both the supplies that the Gladers had received and on the Grievers that had tried to murder them.

"If you're watching this," Doctor Paige continued, blonde hair pulled into a tight bun and blue eyes regarding them with a certain amount of respect that made several of the Gladers feel very discomforted. "That means you've successfully completed the Maze Trials."

At this, several of the members of the group looked towards each other and towards Inka curiously as she had been the only person with a monitor that had read anything about previous trials. What did this mean? Had this whole thing been a test? Why?

"I wish I could be there in person to congratulate you," Paige continued, jaw clenching as she explained more. "But circumstances seem to have prevented it. I'm sure by now, you must all be very confused, angry, frightened. I can only assure you that everything that's happened to you, everything we've done to you, it was all done for a reason."

This caused Inka to begin sobbing quietly again after her small period of disgusted awe, infuriated by the fact that other human beings had had the indecency and exclusive lack of morals to subject anyone to the sorts of things she and the other Gladers had endured for whatever the reason.

"You won't remember, but the sun has scorched our world." Images of heat waves and piles of burned bodies illuminated the screen, causing several members of the group to pale and gape in shock. Inka simply continued to bawl and break down as the doctor continued, knowing with every second that passed by and with every tighten of Newt's grasp on her that the explanation for their suffering was coming and it would not be pleasant. "Billions of lives lost by fire, famine, suffering on a global scale. The fallout was unimaginable. What came after was worse. We called it the Flare; a deadly virus that attacks the brain." Pictures and videos of a virus attacking healthy cells could be seen on the monitor then, as well as a graphic video of a man struggling against restraints with dark purple veins threatening to burst under his skin. His eyes were a deep black and his mouth leaked blood as he thrashed violently, making noises that the Gladers could not hear thanks to the doctor's voice overriding the sound on the video. "It is violent, unpredictable and incurable."

This caused Newt to let out a grimace, wondering why the hell this sort of virus had anything to do with them being stuck in a pseudo idyllic stone chamber that had tortured and killed their ever increasing population for three years. What was to be gained from such a test?

"Or so we thought," His questions were answered as Ava Paige went on. "In time, a new generation emerged that could survive the virus. Suddenly, there was a reason to hope for a cure. But finding it would not be easy. The young would have to be tested, even sacrificed, inside harsh environments, where their brain activity could be studied. All in an effort to understand what makes them different, what makes _you_ different."

The woman's eyes seemed to collide with Inka's at that moment, even though the girl knew it could not be possible. She wailed to the sky, letting her cries ring clear through the room and burying her face in her hands as she tried to deal with the fact that her assumptions had been correct the entire time and her memories had been real as well. Everything was real – she had been placed here a long time ago and she knew it.

"You may not realize it, but you're very important." Another wrangled sob from Inka who sunk to the ground only to have Newt follow her down and hold her desperately. "Unfortunately, your trials have only just begun. As you'll no doubt soon discover, not everyone agrees with our methods."

At this point, the Gladers frowned as they noticed doctor Paige's coworkers were beginning to panic and the alarms had gone off. Large black soldiers stormed the facility, bearing firearms and shooting towards the workers who protected themselves only by raising their hands in innocence. It seemed as though several tried to salvage some work, but for the most part they did not seem to put up much of a fight.

"Progress is slow, people are scared." She went on sadly, completely disregarding the bullets firing towards her office and shattering the glass. "It may be too late for us, for me, but not for you. The outside world awaits. Remember..."

The doctor raised a pistol to her right temple, causing a shocked silence to fall over the small group watching her as they held their breath and wondered what on earth was going through her mind.

"WCKD is good."

And with that final resonating statement, Ava Paige squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the trigger, her body dropping uselessly off of the chair she had been sitting on and slumping to the ground after the gunshot rang clear on the video.

In her attempts to shield her eyes from the horrid scene like many others in the surviving group of Gladers, Inka turned her head to the side and buried it into Newt's shoulder where she spotted a familiar looking figure in the corner. The British girl's eyes widened in consternation as she rose and took slow steps towards the fallen woman, drawing the attention of the group as she separated herself. It was the doctor's body, laying right where she had shot herself and looking just as gruesome as expected. Inka did not know what to do with the emotions coursing through her – resentment, mistrust, rage, desperation – and instead looked pathetically down upon the one person who was apparently supposed to have all the answers with tears blurring her vision. This was the director - the leader of it all that had manipulated the entire operation, and she was dead at the Gladers' feet.

"Not fair," Inka murmured between sobs, covering her mouth in despair and allowing her shoulders to shake as she wept. Newt wordlessly pried her away from her spot in front of the doctor, taking her slim shoulders into his hands and cradling her head in a dazed fashion. "It's not fair."

Suddenly a large alarm blared, causing the entire group to look towards a door labeled 'Surface access tunnel S-7' that was sliding open several feet away. With Thomas and Minho in the lead the Gladers formed a wall in front of the exit, looking towards it uncertainly and trying to calculate the risk of what would happen if they took a leap of faith.

"Is it over?" Chuck looked up towards Newt, hope and apprehensiveness blending in his eyes.

"She said we were important...what are we supposed to do now?" Newt muttered to no one in specific, still holding Inka towards him loosely like a newborn child. There had to be a further explanation for this – the answers that the woman had given the group were somewhat satisfying but still left many unanswered questions about everyone's previous lives. The ex-second in command felt his eyebrows pull together in a daze, trying to make sense of the unusually large equation that they had been placed in. If what the doctor had said was true, the world outside was in chaos and they somehow played a big part in it's survival. If what she said wasn't true, they would be safer going back into the maze and killing every last Griever so that they could live in peace without having to worry about becoming sick like the man on the screen.

"I dont know," Thomas responded numbly, seemingly out of answers as he let several tears spring into his eyes. He tried to remind himself that he was helping the group escape and that he cared very deeply for them now, but he could not stop remembering Alby and Ben's words that he had been a main contributor to the Gladers' torture. "But let's get out of here."

After several doubtful glances, the jittery group began to move forwards – some slower than others – towards the strange door that would hopefully lead to their freedom. At this point it was clear that their main goal still needed to be escape, especially after a suicidal doctor had revealed that they had indeed been test subjects in a post apocalyptic world. This information was still a lot to take in, and the silence among the group was palpable thanks to the sheer amount of death and destruction they had witnessed apparently in the name of science. The quiet however, did not last.

"No," A familiar voice called out from behind the ground, and the small group whipped around only to have their mouths drop open in shock.

 **A/N: Again, I'm aware that alterations have been made from the book's story (all of the clues in the maze instead of simple sectors and whatnot) but just to clarify this is to make it simpler since the books take so many paths it gets complicated, and I did not want to spend so much time focusing on that complicated amount of detail when instead I could focus on character development and the bigger storyline that I wanted to shift slightly.**


	10. Escape

**Escape**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.** **  
**

"Gally?" Thomas stared at the wide eyed boy who was holding a throwing knife in one hand and a Griever key in the other that was labeled as six. He did not look torn up or particularly scrambled, making the group wonder how he had reached the facility on his own and hold their breaths as they waited to hear what he had to say. Gally seemed different and looked frightened for once, putting everyone on edge as they tried to understand what was wrong with his behavior.

"What's going on?" Thomas questioned, prompting the boy across from him to tense.

"They...can control me," Gally wheezed, reaching for his throat as if he was choking and looking towards the group in desolation. "I don't – I have...to."

He then ceased his unclear speech, relaxing immediately and grasping his blade tighter as the Gladers tried to understand what he was saying and who exactly had this sort of hold on him. Was it the creators?

They did not have time to find out, because before anyone could utter another word to Gally the boy was bringing his right arm up high and whipping the dagger he held towards Thomas with surprising strength and accuracy. The time in the room seemed to slow as the group watched the object propel through the air, too sluggish with shock to do anything and betrayed that their friend had done such a horrid thing. Thomas' brain desperately tried to move his body as his life flashed before his eyes, but the boy could not find his feet and found that his hands had gone completely cold. It seemed that everything was going to be over and that the situation was completely helpless until a figure leaped in front of Thomas.

With a horrid 'shunk', the blade landed itself right into Chuck's chest, and the young boy fell to the ground with a gruesome shriek of pain.

There was a split second of shock as the group stared down at the boy before Thomas spoke his name, almost as if he did not believe the chestnut haired pre-teen had been the one to save him. _Anyone but Chuck - please,_ he thought, dropping to his knees and letting his face scrunch up in devastation as he came back to reality.

"Chuck!" He howled as he gripped the boy rapidly losing consciousness, blood oozing from his mouth as his body began to fail him. "No - CHUCK!"

"Thomas," The younger boy wheezed as his friend tried anything to save him, blood spurting from the injury only to coat the floor and Thomas' hands. "F-find my mom, t-tell her..."

"Chuck!"

Chuck did not get to finish his sentence, as his eyes had rolled up into their sockets and he had begun to go limp in Thomas' arms. The older boy shouted for help, knowing fully well that the reason no one moved was not only out of trauma but because they had all accepted that he was beyond saving. Chuck had sacrificed himself for the boy he considered his leader, deeming it necessary to the situation as he had seen that Thomas was capable of leading the Gladers to safety.

"Chuck," Thomas' deplorable tone, Chuck's faint gargling noises and the faint alarm were the only noises in the room at the moment. "Don't die...please, fight it."

It was then, as he realized that his friend's body was now lifeless and would no longer pass back into the land of the living, that something inside Thomas broke. It was like a beam that was holding too much weight after endless amounts of objects had been piled on top of it, and he found that a sensation beginning in the middle of his stomach was growing to encase his entire body. His mental stability in the moment crumbled as the dams of calm holding the rage in his mind back cracked and began to spew at the edges. He was vibrating with fury, spots dancing in his vision as he stood up to face Gally and rushed towards him like a madman.

The two collided, Gally apparently too conflicted to fight back as Thomas' form overwhelmed him and beat him to the ground. Punches flew and slammed Gally's head back into the ground, nose crunching and lips splitting as his face was mauled by Thomas' fists. He could not tell whether or not his cries of anguish or Gally's cries of pain were louder, but both of them molded together into one noise as he continued to abuse the boy senselessly.

It was not until Minho and Newt pulled him away that Thomas stopped doing damage to Gally, arms still swinging even though they were colliding with nothing but pure air. His friends dragged him back, managing to refocus his attention on Chuck as they knew that beating Gally was not going to help their situation. The boy was already unconscious from Thomas' attack, lying still several feet away.

"No," Thomas muttered in defeat as he refused to accept the fact that Chuck was gone. "I promised..."

All of his friend's faces stared down at the hurricane of a situation that had obliterated their sense of movement. The sheer amount of information and events that had occurred were growing to be too large, and many of the Gladers did not know how to handle what was happening. This was clear on many of their faces, as they could not muster any emotion besides pain when they looked down at Chuck's still form covered by a sobbing Thomas who lamented the death of his friend. Newt placed a hand over his mouth to cover a sob of his own as his friends broke down around him as well, not being able to come to terms with the fact that they had been unable to protect the younger boy like they had promised. He would never see his parents; never truly understand what had happened to the earth and never realize why he had been so important to the puzzle that Ava Paige had been trying to explain before her seemingly inevitable demise.

Then, as if out of their wildest dreams, the steel plating at the end of the hallway where the door labeled 'Surface access tunnel S-7' slid open with a hiss, and men clad in black carrying assault rifles swept into the facility.

To Thomas, everything was muted as he clung to the younger boy he had promised to protect, and even when strong hands gripped his shoulders and forced him to move he pushed back against them to try and salvage Chuck's body that he had convinced himself was still alive. There had to be a way to save him – he could not have been gone. But he was torn away, still bawling uncontrollably with every step and fighting back with everything he had and not even questioning why there were unknown hands trying to rip him away from the room where Chuck and Gally lay.

Inka, on the other hand, was in a purely disturbed state of mind. She could feel Newt's hands, pushing and guiding her along the hallway towards the bright light and she could see the black figures around her nearly melting into the forms of the Gladers, but she could not bring herself back to reality. Everything seemed like a dream; she could not breathe properly and she could see her vision blurring around the edges as she fought to focus. Her ears did not want to comply and listen to everything at once, instead choosing to listen to the muffled sound of Winston shouting and one of the soldiers – or the men she assumed to be some sort of military – bark orders to keep moving as they pulled the group along.

Then, the group burst out into the light and were exposed to the world again for the first time after their swipe. Inka and the rest of the Gladers stared around at the world buried in sand as best they could whilst making a run for the very obvious getaway helicopter, noticing that the sand was almost like a tomb that chambered the lands that had once been vast cities with high skyscrapers. Time slowed for Inka as her footsteps and breath rate faltered whilst she stared around her in a terrorized awe. Very little green was popping out of the sand, and it seemed that the entire barren wasteland was void of objects besides rocks and scattered highways until she spotted ruined buildings in the distance as well. Something had indeed happened to the earth...and perhaps Ava Paige was not the only one with answers as to why the hell things had turned out this way. This equation was growing larger and larger by the minute.

"Run! Your life depends on it!" Out of nowhere one the soldiers shoved Inka, causing her to break out of her reverie and sluggishly continue her sprint to the helicopter a distance away still in a daze. She did not know what the man meant, but could spot Newt in the distance scanning for her amongst the group of Gladers and stopped as soon as he saw that she had fell behind.

"Inka!" He shouted, surprised at his own burst of adrenaline as he pulled her along upon reaching his spot. He noted her paleness and continued to wordlessly tug her along, knowing that she was going to reach a state of immobility and stupor soon if they did not get to the chopper fast. Based on what he had learned about her so far, she had a certain ability to lose touch with reality if she was exposed to certain traumas. The other Gladers – besides Thomas, who was the last one out of the WCKD bunker buried in sand and was just coming back to reality as he caught sight of the ruined earth before him – seemed damaged, but did not exhibit such concerning traits.

The group clambered into the big military helicopter at last, filling the large space that lay behind the pilots seats and looking around at each other in suspense. They had no idea who these masked men were or what purpose they served, and here they were being loaded into a helicopter and airlifted into the sky with nothing more than threats and shouts of encouragement. Newt quickly pulled Inka to his side, clinging to her harshly and feeling her grip back despite her detachment from the world at the moment, realizing that they both desperately needed each other for support.

"You guys alright?" One of the men wearing a mask took his face protector off as the helicopter grew in altitude, taking a large turn to swoop around the large stone wall that the Gladers had rushed out of. "It's okay – you're safe now."

The Gladers seemed shell shocked to see a real adult, grown and fully capable of speech sitting in front of them and not being shot at or shooting. It was, in fact, all they had known so far – and for that the man could not blame them.

The chopper began moving quite rapidly, causing the group to anxiously look out the windows to get a glimpse of what the world had come to and what state humanity was in. Nothing greeted them at first, as all they could spot was sand and large stone walls, but then as the helicopter made one final turn, the Gladers spotted the first and last view of the maze and their Glade, all spread out underneath them and covered by a large clear dome that had been trapping them in. Testing them. They saw the walls they had needed to so desperately memorize to get out and they saw the paradise that was the green place sitting right in the middle. That had been their home – their oasis free of pain and up until recently, their safe zone.

Newt went numb. His head fell, a sense of heaviness washing over him as he recognized the severity of the fact that he had been locked inside a test chamber for three years. He had seen boys die – he had had a part of himself die in the Glade – and he had witnessed more suffering than many could bear in that green haven that he had called home. He had also previously owned a life, he realized, closing his eyes in pain and feeling his stomach clench for a past he could not remember. He would never go back to it, not unless there was a whole other community of people out there that was hidden from this monstrosity that had taken over the planet.

He vaguely recognized Inka's equally petrified stare as she connected the dots in her mind and realized that 'trial eighty four' on her monitor meant that she had run through the horrible white walled maze stuck somewhere deep in the facility eighty four times. She accepted it now – she could see the reality of her misery for all that time. She did not know how long she had been enclosed behind those white walls, being chased by those terrible creatures that had mauled her face and scratched at her soul. She did not know why she had been chosen in particular and ripped away from the rest of humanity along with the other Gladers, but she knew that for whatever reason it was she would not forgive her captors. There was a price to pay for such mistreatment, even if it was in the name of science.

All the breath in her lungs left in one large woosh as she began to feel a numbing in her fingers, and she found herself hyperventilating as her heart beat erratically in her chest. Her vision began to tunnel, black coating the sides again as her brain began to overload with stress. She could barely draw a breath, trying top stop the tightness in her chest and the nausea that crept up in her stomach as she felt herself grow more and more lightheaded by the second. Newt snapped himself out of his daze to assist her, finding that his efforts were making a difference when he clasped his hands on either side of her face and made her look at him. Still, her eyes would not focus and her paleness frightened him, causing him to try and shake her out of her panic attack with words of comfort instead.

"Inka - listen to me."

Inka slowly began to focus on him, grey eyes fusing to brown as she felt the incredibly strong pull inside of abdomen that she had tried to describe to him in the first several days of her existence in the Glade.

"Listen to my voice – look at me. We're alive, we're safe."

She gritted her teeth together, trying to draw a breath and struggling visibly in the process. So Newt breathed with her instead, calming himself down in the process and watching her try to mimic his actions. He encouraged her with a calm nod as her lips parted further to take in more breath, following his lead as he breathed deep and slow to guide her to a regular heart rate, finding himself incredibly pacified as well. What was really minutes felt like hours as the two assisted each other, sharing oxygen instead of words until Inka's breathing rate finally began to slow down. Although neither of them noticed it, the helicopter was still moving through the sandy cities and grew hot as the sun beat down on it's metallic shell. It was not until Newt released his hold on the sides of Inka's head that he realized his fingers had become entangled in her short locks, and the same soft blush that he had seen in the Glade the day she had stabbed Alby with the neutralizing syringe lit her cheeks. Again he pondered if it was a reaction to the hot and cold sweats that happened after an anxiety attack, but her wide grey eyes that regarded him with a look of firm trust were a sign to him that it was not just her body temperature that was making the red appear.

Newt did not take his eyes off of Inka for another long moment, letting his brows pull together slightly when he felt an impeccable twinge of familiarity. He could not place it, as with all of the feelings he had that he remembered and could not place in the puzzle that was his hijacked brain, but he was certain that the feeling had been felt before – and very strongly. What scared Newt the most however, was not the fact that this strong connection had been made before but the fact that he did not know who the connection had been made with. Had he felt this protective and drawn towards a friend? Had he entrusted a family member this much? Was this what it felt like to care so deeply for someone that Newt would rather put himself in danger instead of seeing the tiny British she-bean in front of him get hurt?

He did not know, but things were different now. Whoever he had felt the connection and those emotions with before did not seem to matter when Inka was sitting right in front of him. She was a fascinating specimen with the extraordinary capability to believe and fight amongst even the toughest of obstacles, inspiring and leading all the way through. Upon her arrival in the Glade there had been major changes, not only in behavior but in attitude that many considered for the better. She had sparked that – she had been part of the massive push that had triggered the landslide motivation and the faith that had finally brought answers. She had been a massive part of the push that had placed them in this very helicopter that was delivering them to what they hoped to be safety.

"Everything is going to change." The man drew attention back to himself while looked around at all of the confused teenagers, trying his not to upset them any further as they continued to spare long glances at the outside world beyond the helicopter's walls. "Relax – ETA is an hour."

Although none of the Gladers visibly relaxed at his words, they did not question them and shared uneasy glances before shifting themselves into more comfortable places. Inka and Newt now sat unbelievably close, every inch of their sides pressing together from their shoulders all the way down to their hips, legs and feet. If they had been camouflaged in black one could have guessed that they had been molded into one by the sheer lack of space in between them. Both were rigid and tense, counting on each other's presence for a link to reality as they tried to cope with the startling realization of what had happened so far and what was to come next.

On the other end of the helicopter, Thomas had succumbed to his weariness and had allowed his shock to ebb away as the fatigue took over, forcing him to lay back on rough equipment as his eyes slid shut. He was out in a matter of seconds, the last sensation being Teresa's soft hands in his hair as she made an effort to comfort him and ease his heightened emotions. Soon enough, Thomas was drifting into the dreamworld and into another memory, one that he knew held more answers despite it's traumatic nature.

 _As soon as he visualized his surroundings, the first thing Thomas noted was the distance between his feet and the ground_ _in the crowded train station. The second thing he noticed was the teary eyes of a woman standing before him amidst the sea of people, shouting and begging to be let into an area that his back was facing. Thomas could not hear or understand what the woman was saying, but he managed to make out the words 'remember' and 'love' before a firm pair of camouflaged arms grasped his torso and pulled him away from her. She was pushed back into the rest of the crowd and whilst he could not recognize her, he felt the strongest pull towards her. He tried to struggle back, but realized that his small body – in the form of a young boy – was too weak and feeble against the one of the hardened soldier._

 _He was carried to a train loaded with scary amounts of men bearing guns and plopped down on the far end of a compartment. Thomas looked around, once at the gun in front of him and then at the soldier wielding it, then again around the compartment of the train. His eyes fell on all types of children just like him looking equally as confused and frightened, exchanging identical glances at Thomas as though he had the answers. Then, he spotted a face that he could remember like no other._

 _It was Ava Paige._

" _Thomas...it's going to be okay," The doctor spoke softly to him, blonde locks cascading down her shoulders as she moved back to sit beside a girl who looked remarkably familiar, only to place her arm around her._

 _The girl's short hair was tousled and her youthful face was smudged with tears as she trembled, refusing to make eye contact with anyone until another familiar face entered the train. The boy was skinny and frail, golden hair whipping back and forth as he struggled against the soldier grasping him. Another man assisted in holding him down, but the boy did not stop his efforts until he caught sight of the girl across from him._

 _The two visibly changed their demeanor after seeing each other, trying to reach each other in the struggle and screeching that they were friends when the soldiers sitting around them held them back. The two still struggled, crying out for contact as it was their only chance for comfort after having been planted in such a horrifying situation but were continuously denied it._

 _It took a moment for Thomas' sluggish brain to realize that this was Newt and Inka, but before he could say anything his memory was being tugged away and it was as if he had been placed in a machine washer on high. His vision swirled, spinning and spinning the world around him until he resurfaced in a familiar metal contraption._

 _The box...could it be? No. He was far away from that godforsaken place back in the maze in the middle of it all. He could not have been cycled back to the start after everything he had been through. It could not be possible._

" _No...no, no..." He muttered, rising to his feet as he spotted the distinct droplets of water cascading down his form and sliding through the cracks of the metal cage. It was moving upwards, just as it had when he had first entered the Glade that had seemed so utopic at the time. "NO!"_

 _The box rose higher and higher, propelling him towards the surface where the light shone ominously although this time it did not stop._

 _Thomas gave one final scream, covering his head with his arms and expecting the worst before he was thrust into the light completely._

"THOMAS!"

It was Minho, shouting in his face and shaking him awake whilst panic coated his features.

"Wake up! We gotta go!"

His friend pulled him out of the now empty helicopter, only to thrust him into the arms of soldiers who were equally as unapologetic in their task of ripping him away from the war machine and pulling him across the sand. Thomas struggled for a moment, gathering his bearings and making sure that Chuck's idol – the small statue the boy had carved for Thomas back in the Glade as lament to his unknown parents – was still tucked safely away in his pocket. Upon acknowledgment that it was still there, Thomas was able to fully awake from his slumber and try to grasp what was happening.

It was dark all around him with nothing but voices shouting for him to run, and although lights illuminated the path ahead of him where he could see his friends running towards a giant lit-up building Thomas' mind still struggled to focus on what was going on. The situation only got worse when gunfire erupted from behind him, and Thomas could barely make out the sound of what sounded like an animal snarling from not too far away. The soldier shouted something again before firing, and then pushed Thomas along further before he started to run on his own.

Nothing but gunfire and the sounds of shouting accompanied him for the next several seconds as he caught up with his friends swamped by soldiers. The giant doors of the base ahead of them, about one hundred meters away, opened only to usher out more soldiers that sprinted their way with heavy assault rifles at the ready. None of the Gladers stopped to question what was happening or what they were shooting at, and used whatever energy they had left in their beings to focus on reaching the large illuminated facility.

Newt, on the other hand, had his eyes focused on two things; Inka and the giant structure they were running towards. His main priorities included getting himself and his friends to safety at the moment, and he was capable of shutting out all other noises as well as the disfigured forms that were hurling themselves at the soldiers in the dark whilst he gripped Inka's arm tightly and made the final shove towards the giant hanger doors.

The two burst across the striped hazard line with the rest of the group seconds before the large metal doors slammed shut, looking behind them to check that everyone else had made it before looking around them in awe. The facility, looking to be some kind of plant of some sort, was in full swing with soldiers darting all around them driving tail motors or jogging past them with large assault rifles. Welders were positioned near the wall they had just entered from, repairing what seemed to be dents and fractures in the steel or reinforcing the metal for a reason that the Gladers could not grasp yet.

The group's dirty faces were only able to gaze around at the bustling men around them for a moment longer before what seemed to be a sergeant approached them and barked for them to follow his large form. Once again, Inka was pulled along by Newt in his efforts to get her shocked form to move along faster as he had noticed that her brain was on the brink of another panic attack. Many things could happen in one day, but it did not mean that her brain was capable of handling all of them.

The sergeant and two other soldiers flanking the group quickly guided them towards a small door hidden behind a large shipping crate and did not cease shouting orders for them to hurry along until the entire group was safely tucked away inside. It was then that he began to shut the door.

"Wait," Thomas found himself blurting before he could stop the words from bubbling up in his throat, catching the sergeant's attention. "What's going on out there?!"

"Nothing we can't handle," He assured gruffly before slamming the door shut in their faces and encasing the group in total darkness.

"Hey!" Thomas banged on the door in disbelief, anger fueling him as he realized that once again he had been locked away by a higher power. "Hey! Let us out of there!"

He was interrupted by a buzz as the light in the room sprung to life, and the entire group turned distractedly only to find themselves faced with a long table filled to the brim with delicious morsels of all kinds of food imaginable.

A beat of silence ensued before they all lunged.

"Dibs on the rice!" Frypan reached for the large bowl of white seeds as the rest of the survivors shoved whatever food they could get to down their throats.

Chicken, bread, vegetables and fruits all made themselves down the group's gullets only to be followed by water as they engaged in the feast of their lives. There were no noises in the room besides chomping and swallowing, save for desperate breaths in between bites as each former Glader tried to shovel as much food as they could muster into their stomachs knowing that their next meal would not be guaranteed. It was a happy sight to see each other indulge after so many stressful hours without a bite of nutrition.

"This sure is better than Frypan's slop!" Winston laughed as he made the jab towards the ex-cook, already taking a liking to their new found safe zone.

"You're right!" Frypan only cackled back, taking a large bite of an apple as Teresa playfully tossed rice back towards the former Keeper of the slicers for his comment. A food fight ensued, distracting most of the group who had otherwise satisfied their stomach's and were now nibbling continuously at what was left of the food pile.

Newt smiled and laughed – the first real signs of positivity since he had been in the Glade mere days ago – when Inka took the chance to shove a handful of rice down his shirt. He retaliated by dumping a handful of the same small white pellets on her head, reveling in her shriek of content as the rest of their friends continued to pelt each other with food. It was pure, uninhibited joy that the small group felt in those short moments as they threw whatever useless leftovers they could find towards each other.

The moment ended when the group decided that they needed to rest to digest the food they had gulped down, and quickly situated themselves on the various tables and sandbags that lay scattered around what seemed to be a utility room. Thomas had already checked for exits after his meal, finding that the doors were locked and that the group would have to wait until someone unlocked the front door they had come in from to get out. So, the survivors relaxed for the time being, minds drifting once more as they thought about who exactly had saved them from the horrors of the WCKD facility.

"I don't know who these guys are," Frypan sighed, taking one last bite of the rice before setting his bowl aside and leaning against a large pillar. "But they can cook."

"Fry," Inka looked over at the former cook slowly, ignoring his statement and realizing that she had never known the boy's full name. "What's your real name?"

"Siggy," He responded, patting his full stomach and looking back at the girl who Newt held protectively against his side in mild curiosity. "Or Sigmund – but it sounds dumb."

"Sigmund..." She narrowed her eyes slightly, trying to riddle out why it sounded to familiar. The name sounded like it came with something else on the end, but she couldn't figure out what even though she knew it was on the tip of her tongue. Damn her padlocked brain. "We should have last names..."

"What do you mean?" Newt craned his neck to look down at her, watching her lips purse in thought.

"There should be something that comes after our names," She continued. "It feels sort of empty – you know? Like there's half of it missing...in fact, how do we even know that our names are our names? WCKD could have easily changed what we thought our real names were if they swiped the rest of our brains."

Newt bristled, unsure if the subject was a secure one as most of the Gladers had been so dependent on assuring each other that their names were the only real memories that the creators had let them keep. To suddenly discover that they were missing pieces of it – or that their names were not what they thought they had been – would have been devastating and too stressful for many of the group to bear. Their names were the only sure thing that they had left; the only information that they had been sure of since the beginning. To be stripped of that after everything that had happened so far would have been too groundbreaking and mind shattering, so none of the group chose to comment for the time being. Even if Newt found himself questioning his own name and agreeing with Inka's theory, he remained silent as well and merely held her tighter.

"I can't believe there's so many of them still back there," Winston hung his head low, thinking back to the rest of the boys still in the Glade as well as Gally and Chuck who most likely still lay slaughtered inside the WCKD facility. The mood dampened even further after his change of topic, bringing everyone back down into the proper state of mind after having been put through such rattling events.

"Don't..." Teresa tried to stop the flow of conversation on that matter, but Thomas was already affected and had pulled out Chuck's talisman from deep inside his pocket. No words were shared as the entire group regarded the figurine in sorrow, memories flashing back to the fateful moments mere hours ago. So much had changed and so much had gone wrong in such a short time span that it left several of the brains in the room scrambling for hope that their situation would get better.

"We owe it to them," Thomas started after a few moments, a burst of determination flashing through him at the memory of his fallen friend. He let a few tears escape his eyes as the grief overwhelmed him and rattled his beaten bones. "To keep going. To figure out who did this. To figure out what the hell is going on and to solve all this mess."

"We're not going anywhere from here," Newt butted in, appreciating his friends drive but accepting that for the time being they were immobile. "I mean...do you really think these guys know anything about who we are?"

"We don't even know who _they_ are," Teresa proped her head up on her hand, leaning against a sandbag and making eye contact with Newt and his small British counterpart tucked into his side. "We don't know one single thing about them."

"Well, we know they're no friends of WCKD," Newt rumbled, heaving a sigh as he mentioned the god forsaken name that now held so much meaning to it. "Not if they shot up their control centre."

"That's good enough for me," Minho flipped to his side from his position on the table, squinting at the group and waving his hand. "You guys think too much; we're free, no?"

Newt felt Inka tense up beside him, and locked eyes with a very uneasy Thomas who did not look at all convinced that this was 'free' by any means. They had no idea what was going to come next, nor what part they were supposed to play in the apparent fire that world had come to or what they were supposed to do about their own survival. Minho's question, however, would not be answered for the time being because the door where they had come in from was being unlocked and the survivors were already on their feet to check who was on the other side besides the gun-wielding soldiers.

It was a fairly grey haired man, looking about forty with a large distinct mole on his face and sporting a long leather jacket that seemed otherwise impractical for such times.

"You kids doing all right?" He looked between the raggedy teens, searching for his specific target and smiling slightly when his eyes locked on her tiny form hidden behind her British counterpart.

 _5 and A-5; our first surviving match pair,_ He thought, nearly slipping a smirk at the sight of them both but managing to cover it up with what he hoped to be a sincere half smile towards the group as his eyes flitted back to Paige's favorite subject. _What a plentiful, successful turnout._

The memorized categories and information flitted through his mind as the man gazed at each one of the straggly survivors, not wishing another moment of discomfort for them considering what lay ahead.

"Sorry about all the fuss," He continued, not wanting to cause alarm as the members tensed visibly under his gaze. "We had ourselves a bit of a swarm."

"Who are you?" Thomas questioned, heading the group and fixing the man with a steely gaze. It was clear each one of the youth was suspicious of him and his intentions.

"I'm the reason you're all still alive," The rat-like man lied through his teeth, grinning slightly and switching his caring tactic for a more authoritative one. "And it's my intention to keep you that way...come with me. We'll get you kids squared away."

 **A/N: I know that in the book it was one of the rescuers that explains the sun flare to the group, and that at least 20 of the Gladers originally escaped together as well as the fact that the creators actually explained what was happening in person instead of on camera, but once again I find myself following the movie's path because following the book would require a lot more twists and turns and I'm preparing to move onto the Scorch Trials. Of course, parts of the book were still molded with the movie.**


	11. Scrubbed

**Scrubbed**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.** **  
**

"You can call me Mr. Janson," The man decided to introduce himself after he was certain that he could hear the footsteps of the youths scurrying to catch up with him. He led them through the large warehouse that protected his facility, passing soldiers and workers alike that were putting in an equal amount of effort to protect the base from the onslaught of the creatures outside. He nearly held his breath as they rapidly approached the safe doors that would hopefully lock them all in for good one last time. "I run this place – it is a sanctuary safe from the horrors of the outside world. You should all think of it as a safe place, kinda of a hall between homes..."

"You mean you're taking us home?" Newt spoke up first, frowning as they passed by a large group of welders who looked as though they were fixing a machine gun. His ears had perked up at the word, as he had strived to discover where he had come from and what had become of it.

"A home of sorts," The man named Janson turned to look at him oddly as they walked. "Sadly, there wouldn't be much left of wherever you came from. But we do have a place for you; a refuge outside the scorch where WCKD will never find you again. How does that sound?"

There was a pregnant pause as the Gladers continued to follow Janson, looking between each other and figuring that this was too good to be true. Inka shared a concerned glance with Newt, still not trusting the words Janson was saying and frowning when she heard the word 'scorch'. Ava Paige had said the same word before they had been thrown in the helicopter – so this must have meant that the information she had given to them was true. The world was in ruins – any remaining life as it had been before was gone.

"Why are you helping us?" Minho questioned, guessing that this was some sort of division of the military that had been tasked with handling survivors but assuming that they did not want to touch any of the test subjects that had been associated with WCKD. "What about the government?"

"All gone. Let's just say that the world out there is in a rather precarious situation," Janson replied, smirking slightly. "We're all hanging on by a very thin thread...the fact that you kids can survive the flare virus makes you the best chance of humanity's continued survival. Unfortunately, it also makes you a target - as no doubt by now you've noticed."

The group tried to take in what the rat-like man was saying, remembering Dr. Paige's words from earlier where she had explained the flare virus and what it could do to the body. What did it mean that they were immune? And how? Had this been the reason for their capture the entire time? They did not have time to ask, because Janson was speaking again and they had reached a large door covered in hazard lining. Alarms sat on either side of it as well as a keypad and a small window, making it appear to be the safest place in the entire facility.

"Beyond this door lies the beginning of your new lives," Janson stated as he swiped his key card on the pad and watched it light up green, then turned around to watch the group's faces when they spotted the long white hallway ahead of them. "But first things first...let's do something about that smell."

The Gladers looked at each other with wide eyes, understanding his double meaning that spoke about their awful scent – being thrown down a Griever hole and cooped up in a smelly helicopter was not the best combination of events for a sweet smell – but did not expect what he would lead them to. After following the rat man through several corridors that were equally as white as the walls Inka had remembered seeing on her monitor hours ago, they reached a sub-level of the warehouse that was clearly redesigned for living quarters. Soldiers bustled around these lower levels as well, only accompanied by what seemed to be nurses clad in light blue uniforms. What would have previously been a military base filled with rows of beds and boxes for uniforms was remade into a fortified refugee camp, it seemed, and the Gladers were more than happy to see that Janson was leading them towards a door clearly labeled 'shower area'.

"Get cleaned up," Janson held the door open, beckoning the group inside where they could spot several stalls divided by large walls. "We'll get you some fresh clothes."

Frypan was the first through the door, laughing in disbelief as more rows of showers were unveiled before his eyes. The rest of the group soon followed suit, Newt and Inka bringing up the back as they looked between each other with raised eyebrows. It was clear that the boys were going to be on the right hand side of the wall, as Teresa had already broken left and reached for one of the multiple towels that were sitting in large white bins to either side of the showers. Newt and Inka followed suit, sparing one more uncertain glance between each other as they veered opposite ways to clean themselves.

Winston and Minho were the first to let out satisfied groans as the spray of hot water hit their skin, noises echoing in the large room coated in ceramic that was heating up rapidly. All of the group's blood and grime that had accumulated over the last day or two went washing down the drain, and the Gladers were even happier to find real razors and soap bars sitting on the walls next to them. Teresa and Inka took the most advantage of this, relishing in the hot water themselves and cleaning their hair thoroughly as well. Inka, who was trying to wash off the feeling of being watched as well as the layers of dirt that was caking up her skin, bit her lip as she tried not to think of the image of herself being mauled by Grievers in the fake maze. How long had she been captured for? Exactly how many of the trials she had seen on the screen had she been subjected to?

She tried to push the questions out of her mind and remind herself that all that mattered was her current position in life, but upon sweeping her hand down her face in efforts to clear the dirt there as well her hand brushed against her scars. It only took a minute for small tears to start rolling down her cheeks, chest swelling as she tried not to think of what could have possibly been done to her. There had to be a reason for her suffering – as well as the suffering of each person in the room at the moment – and it was going to have to be a better reason than the fact that they were the only immune survivors on the planet. Everything seemed so unfair at the moment that it was overwhelming to think of how much pity Inka held for herself and the rest of the Gladers. The girl cradled her small frame, tracing the outline of her rib cage and trembling slightly as more tears erupted from her eyes. She stared down at her legs, too thin for comfort, and watched as blood from injuries she had not been aware of swept down the drain alongside her heavy tears.

"Inka?" Teresa's voice from the stall beside her brought the British girl out of her thoughts, and she quickly gulped back a sob before responding.

"Yeah?"

"Are you done?"

"Not yet." Inka shook her head even though Teresa could not see it, forcing herself to contain any remaining tears as she shaved the hair off her body she assumed her past self would have wanted to remove. As soon as the last piece of dirt was scrubbed clean and she had stopped the flow of tears she shut off the water and quickly reached for the towel hung on the small hook on the wall, wrapping herself in it and stepping outside the cubicle. She was met with Teresa, looking equally as bare and shivery. They both looked back longingly towards the stalls they had just exited out of, remembering the warmth and comfort of cleanliness and hot water, before rejoining the boys at the front of the room and trying not to share awkward glances at their toweled bodies whilst they all waited for someone to deliver them clothing. Newt took this time to lean against the wall and look over Inka curiously, noticing the way her collarbones poked out from underneath her skin and how the only plump features on her body was her lips, the soft swell of her breasts and the distinct curves despite her very thin frame. Her arms and legs, topped with tiny toes and fingers that looked like spiders legs, twisted together in efforts to keep her warm whilst the group waited in a calm silence.

He wanted very badly to envelop her in his arms and keep her warm for the moment, only wishing to comfort her and assure her that everything was going to be alright, but he would not have the time to because before he knew it there were nurses streaming through the door and handing each member of the group a pair of clothing. Newt received his own change of clothes, eyeing the workers suspiciously as they exited the room in a routing fashion and gave everyone time to change as if they had repeated this process millions of times before. This place seemed too surreal – too good to be true and a little bit too excited to welcome them into their own ranks after somehow knowing that they were immune test subjects of WCKD. Newt was not the only one who sensed something bigger was going on here, but he let the feeling lay dormant for awhile and continued to assess the place.

After everyone had been changed and been given new footwear that did not smell like Griever slime, a nurse escorted them deeper into the facility where the walls grew to be a shiny silver and the floors were polished clean. They stepped through a door that lead to a medical area, and were soon swamped with droves of doctors clad in white. All of the group was separated at that point, having been assigned their own separate medical professionals and spots in the hospital-like area. Newt was placed just a curtain away from Inka, and both looked rather upset to be separated from each other yet again but comforted once they realized they could spot each other through the cracks of the cloth. It did not help that Inka's doctor was taking every possible measurement of her however, making her attention refocus on the sphygmomanometer as it swelled up on her arm and displayed her blood pressure on a screen Newt could not see. This process repeated itself with him and all of the Gladers, followed by visual checks, stitches for some, and then blood tests.

Newt could make out Inka's noises of protest when her doctor announced that she needed to draw blood, although he was distracted when he realized that his own doctor was creating a syringe of sorts, draining several vials into it before preparing it for injection by removing the plastic protective tip.

"Uh..." Newt gazed unsteadily at the large object, extremely on edge and very suspicious of the fact that the first thing these saviors were doing was injecting them with things. "What is that?"

"A little cocktail," The doctor joked, sitting on the stool in front of Newt as he pulled the boy's arm closer. "Calcium, folate, vitamins A through Z – pretty much everything you've been deprived of out there. Won't hurt a bit – just relax."

Newt clenched his jaw as he looked up at the doctor, then back towards Inka who's doctor had settled on not drawing blood for the moment. He grimaced as the large syringe implanted itself in his skin, then drew a heavy breath when he felt the doctor press the trigger on the object and release the contents of the 'cocktail' into his bloodstream. Hopefully it would make his lightheartedness go away – as it had been something that had been bothering him for the past several hours even after having eaten. He chalked it up to the lack of vitamins and sent a small glare towards his doctor who had claimed it would be painless. Newt was not five – he understood the concept of pain, and he would have appreciated honesty from the medical professional.

Inka, on the other hand, was doing a lot worse at dealing with the fact that she needed an injection.

"No!" She immediately retaliated from the doctor's grasp at the sight of the needle, nearly gagging at the sight of it and widening her eyes. "No – get away!"

Newt's head snapped towards the noise of her complaints, and he rose up out of his own chair where he had been told to wait to make his way over to her curtained area next several feet away. He was greeted with the sight of her pushing against her doctor's hands, unwilling to comply as the medical professional tried to explain what exactly was in the syringe and why it was not going to harm her.

"Stop," She ordered the man, struggling even further and going so far as to leap out of her chair and back away from the syringe Newt had just been inserted with, grabbing scissors for protection in the process. "I don't want it – get away!"

"Inka!" Newt called, frowning at the doctor who was still trying to coax her into calming down and release the scissors. "Calm, alright? Calm."

"I don't want it," Inka explained to Newt, reaching for him as soon as he got to her and seemingly relieved to see him there. She then turned her gaze back towards the doctor, frowning deeply and breathing heavily as she held out the scissors towards him. "Please, stop."

Newt turned to the doctor, ignoring the leap his heart made when she clutched at his arm as though he was the only sure thing in the world at the moment and instead glared towards the perpetrator of the situation.

"She's deprived – she's already underweight and her blood pressure is low," The doctor explained to both of them, pointing towards a screen that showed her statistics - one set of numbers reading 80/50 - just like her monitor had at the ruined WCKD facility. "She needs vitamins. This isn't going to hurt her – she's at risk of cardiac arrest as it is. She needs nutrients. We don't have to do the blood tests, but she needs this or she's not going to cope well."

Newt's worried gaze then turned to Inka, looking her up and down as if he finally accepted just how small the girl was. Her underweight frame trembled slightly, jaw clenching as she looked up at her British counterpart as if she had been aware of this information all along but was unwilling to inform him of it. Her furious grey eyes, looking as though they were a storm ready to destroy everything it it's path, met her doctor's once more.

"No." She repeated, even more firmly this time as her clasp on Newt's arm tightened and the arm holding the scissors tense visibly.

"'At risk of cardiac arrest'?" The boy she clung to quoted the doctor, looking between the two as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Inka..."

She made a face, as if her own mind was battling it out inside her skull but shaking her head tightly once more when the doctor tried to approach her.

"Hey!" Newt held a protective arm out, ceasing the movements of the medical professional and turning to Inka – who was wide eyed now as she accepted the reality that she was very much in danger if she did not get this injection. "Listen to me – you don't have to do the blood tests, but they've got to give you one prick – just one. It doesn't hurt that much; I promise."

His sincere tone was low, washing over her as he began to rub her shoulder blades - an action he that he knew allowed her to breathe deeper. Her throat constricted as she thought of the large needle, making her gulp loudly as she locked eyes with Newt – who did his best to speak to her through a reassuring facial expression – before she drew a shaky breath and forced herself to take a step forward. She knew that her body was weak; she could feel it and she also knew that the stress was literally killing her. To be trapped in such a violent world was beyond terrifying, and the fact that she had no idea what was coming next upset her greatly. Back in the Glade, the only objective had been to get out and nothing else. Here, where the ruined world was at their fingertips, it was less clear what the plan of action was going to be. Still, Inka convinced herself for the time being that perhaps the doctors were not all bad, and took two more weary steps back into the chair where she sat very alert. The doctor eyed her cautiously, making eye contact with Newt who was equally as concerned that she was going to break out into panic once more and succumb to her emotions.

"Inka," Newt cleared his throat, eyeing her hand that still gripped the scissors tentatively. "Could you give me those, love?"

She looked up at him in confusion for a moment, seemingly having forgotten about the potential weapon she held in her left hand, before looking down at the polished silver and giving it to her closest friend.

As soon as Newt had placed the scissors back on the counter, the trained professional decided to take a leap of faith, and after sterilizing the needle once more he wiped her arm down with lidocaine to prepare her. The needle was lowered into her vein moments later, and under the scrutinizing gaze of both the doctor and Newt the British girl turned her head to the side whilst trying to calm her raging stomach that was threatening to expel its contents all over the shiny floor. It took a moment for all of the vitamins to enter her bloodstream, but the doctor tried not to move the syringe around too much as he squeezed every last drop of the 'cocktail' inside of her.

"There we go," He pulled the sharp object out of her arm after a couple more seconds, then quickly pushed himself back in the stool he had been sitting on and watched as Inka gagged.

Newt quickly caught the girl who was falling forward in her seat, supporting her as she grabbed his shirt desperately and tried not to vomit all over him when her stomach finally gave up. Newt was forced to lower her onto the floor next to her pile of half digested food, terrified that she had somehow been injected with the wrong substances, and do nothing but pat her back as her heaves went on.

"What's wrong with her?" Newt turned to the doctor who was rapidly applying a pair of new gloves, a grimace coating his features.

"Just nausea from the needle and mild dehydration," The doctor assured, helping Newt move her towards the garbage can where her stomach gave out again and she gripped onto the plastic of the bin for support. "As long as she gets water and rests she'll be all right. You kids need to stay here until you're give the all clear to join the others."

With that, the doctor left his post, taking with him Inka's information he had written down on a file folder and leaving Newt to question what he had meant by 'others' as he dealt with his poor sick friend. A nurse came by to check on them every once in awhile, leaving Newt to remain on the lookout for the rest of their friends and noticing that each Glader was accounted for besides Thomas and Teresa. Inka only vomited once more in the time span it took for someone to come and direct the waiting group to the next stage of this new experience, leaning on Newt's body sitting next to her on the ground when her body sagged in exhaustion.

"Thank you Newt," She muttered, not knowing what else to say in the moment as she was truly thankful that the boy had helped her through so much of the journey they had made so far.

She did not receive a response from the boy who was all too happy to hear his name slip from her lips at the moment however, because before they knew it more soldiers were teaming through the doors on either side of the huge medical room and barking for the newly arrived group to follow them once more. The Gladers reunited from each of their respective examination pods, reconvening into one large group and looking over each other to make sure that everyone was all right. Very little words were shared besides the question of where Thomas and Teresa were, and even those quieted when the sergeant leading the team that was escorting them stated not to worry about their friends. Minho frowned at the mention that they were in 'good hands', not trusting the fact that they had already been separated from several of their own so soon upon their arrival to this mysterious base.

"Ground rules are no fighting," The sergeant explained to them as they neared a louder section of a hallway after a couple turns. "Lights out at ten and no funny business."

"What are we, six?" Frypan muttered in retaliation. "What is this?"

He shared a strange look with Minho, who seemed equally as unimpressed with what the sergeant in command was describing to them, before both were distracted by the group's arrival into what seemed to be a cafeteria. What they saw inside made each survivor stop in their tracks and stare, dumbfounded by the sheer numbers of the people that sat inside.

It was loaded with kids who looked exactly like them.

Youth of all colors, sizes and genders filled the tables, eating from trays filled with the same food the group had been faced with before they had showered. The soldiers that had come in with the group left them to fend for their own, watching from close by as they integrated themselves into the large cafeteria and eventually selected a table that they were beckoned towards. A large African-American boy welcomed them, asking if they were new intakes before inviting them to sit. His eyes fell over the short haired girl standing closer to the golden haired boy than any of the other new arrivals, eyes flitting around the cafeteria at a high speed as if she was trying to count the total number of people here. Her closest friend, as it seemed, was quickly able to distract her and get her to sit down whilst he followed suit.

"What is this place?" Minho immediately questioned, looking around himself at all of the people.

"Refuge," The boy responded. "We're survivors – all of us. They bring in new kids every day almost; all from different mazes."

There was a beat of silence.

"What?" Minho tried to clarify, the rest of the group too shocked – including Inka who had snapped out of her wonky state to fixate her eyes on the boy revealing answers – to ask questions at the moment. They hadn't been the only maze?

"You guys aren't the only ones," Their informer continued, sensing that no one had explained to them what was going on yet and taking it upon himself. "WCKD did this to a lot of people and Mr. Janson is helping us out, I guess. This base is huge – they use it to stay safe from outside."

It took a moment for the ragtag bunch of survivors to realize that all of these people sitting around them were Gladers themselves – people who had suffered just as much as they had for God knew how long. It made each of their hearts swell as they looked around in partial amazement and partial horror, relieved that so many had gotten out yet terrorized by the fact that WCKD had been able to control so many people at the same time.

"How did you get out?" Was the next question fired from Minho's lips, the rest of the group watching the boy across from them intently as he explained that they had reached the WCKD facility just the same as the new arrivals.

It took a little while for their new friend to explain the full story, starting from the beginning when they had killed a Griever that had attacked their encampment – although they called them beasts instead of Grievers – and discovered the homing device inside. They had not traveled inside the maze for years after their population had decreased dramatically because of repeated stings and boys being locked down in the maze overnight, but two out of their group had made it out and survived.

"There was this big loud explosion," The African-American boy continued his story, looking towards Thomas as he finally joined the table and was welcomed by his fellow companions. "Then these guys came in and started shooting up the place."

"It was intense," The boy in the striped shirt beside him highlighted the recollection of events with another spoonful of food. "They pulled us out of the maze and brought us here."

"What about the rest?" Newt gave Inka's wrist a squeeze as her fist clenched on the table, sensing that she was growing agitated. "The people left behind in the maze – what happened to them?"

"I don't know," He shrugged. "I guess WCKD still has 'em."

There was a beat of silence as Thomas and Newt shared an uneven glance.

"How long have you guys been here?" The former asked, having been correct in his assumptions that Inka was growing uncomfortable and pushed himself closer to her in efforts to calm her down. She relaxed a bit at that, feeling better once their sides were connected all the way down to the sides of their shoes, and was able to let out a little bit of a relieved huff.

"Not long – just a day or two. The kid over there though," The boy responded, shrugging as he took more food into his mouth and pointed towards a far table where a thin boy with a hood over his head sat alone. "He's been here the longest – almost a week. He came out of a maze filled with girls."

"Really?" Minho seemed disbelieving, but the entire table turned to look at the boy anyway as if he would answer their question from ten meters away.

"Some guys have all the luck," The original boy shrugged as Newt and Inka locked eyes once more. They had developed a small system of communication thus far, recognizing each other's facial features and automatically meeting each other's gaze when either of them was uncertain about something. It had been working fairly well to reassure both of them when they needed to communicate subtly about something, although as soon as Janson walked through the far door of the cafeteria their attention was directed towards him.

"Good evening gentlemen; ladies..." He boomed, making sure that his voice extended to all corners of the room to catch the attention of each and every survivor. "You all know how this works; if you hear your name called, rise in an orderly fashion and join my colleagues behind me. They will escort you to the Eastern wing where your new lives are about to begin."

There were claps among the groups of youth, although the new arrivals only frowned slightly. What did he mean by new life? Were they going to be deprived of information yet again? Once more, they did not even have the chance to discuss the questions between themselves because Janson was lifting a sheet on his clipboard and the room was bristling with anticipation for something the new survivors did not understand. They watched in avid fascination as all of the survivors around them smiled at each other, eyes shining in delight whilst they shifted restlessly in their seats.

"Connor," Janson began to list off, and Newt could feel Inka jerk next to him as a boy high-fived his friend several seats away.

"Adelen...Justin...Peter...Allison...Squiggy," Laughs could be heard throughout the cafeteria at the boy's peculiar name, and Inka found herself briefly wondering how the kids around her would react to hearing her name before Janson interrupted her musings and told the rowdy students to quiet themselves. "Settle down – Franklin...and Abigail."

He slammed the clipboard shut as the last name was called out, each survivor who's name was called getting praise from their friends and eagerly joining Janson's coworkers. Inka allowed her eyebrows to pull together for what seemed to be the millionth time that day, looking towards the rat-like man with distrust. For what it was worth, she did not feel safe in this facility whatsoever, and felt even worse when she realized that he was not going to explain exactly where he was taking all of these children. They were stuck wondering yet again, and that was a game Inka was sick of playing.

"Now now – don't get discouraged," The man in question tutted, spinning around on his heel to regard each and every face in the cafeteria equally. "If I could take more I would – but there is always tomorrow. Your time will come. Now eat up!"

He backed out of the room with the line of students he had called in tow, each of them practically teaming with happiness and bouncing in their shoes. There were dull claps among the rest of the cafeteria, obviously bitter that they had not been chosen that night, before the bustling room filled with chatter once more.

"Where are they going?" Inka found herself asking before she could stop herself, craning her neck to try and see out the door that Janson was leading the group.

"Far from here," The boy turned in his seat once more, hunching down as he looked between the five people sitting in front of him. "Lucky bastards."

"They say it's a safe place," The boy in the striped shirt explained. "They can only take in a couple people at a time."

"A safe place?" Newt questioned, fully realizing that his hand was still tight around Inka's wrist and that she had not made a motion to move it.

"Hey..." Thomas suddenly interrupted as he spotted something, and distracted the group as he rose from the table only to head in the direction of the paneled windows that revealed the only other female in the newest group of survivals following a doctor down the blue corridor. "Teresa!"

When the girl would not turn and look at Thomas, he shouted her name again and was rewarded with one last glance before she completely disappeared from view. The other survivors did not rise from their seats, instead regarding the incident from afar and watching as Thomas questioned one of the security guards about Teresa's well being. Thomas did not notice the eyes of a very curious boy that he had stared at himself minutes prior to this event, and merely concentrated his efforts on trying to drill the security guard on what was happening to Teresa. The group back at the table could not hear the guard's response, nor what Thomas had to say on the subject matter after his response, but after the outbreak the entire cafeteria began to receive group-by-group escorts out the original exit. The walk to the sleeping pods wasn't far, and soon each group began to branch off separately as they were taken into their own rooms opened only by soldiers and covered in large metal plating.

When the newest arrivals were the last group remaining in the hallways to be escorted into their room for the night, the soldier leading them – with Frypan hot on his heels eager to hunker down for the night – opened up a door at the end of the hallway. It was then that Inka realized she would be bunking down with her fellow survivors, which comforted the girl most deeply considering she had slept around them before exiting the Glade and was not used to much else. The room was lined with a sink and some hand towels on one side of the wall, as well as a cupboard with what the group assumed to be clothing and hygienic utilities. A buzzer lay on the side of the door in case of a medical emergency or in case someone needed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, as the guard described rather gruffly, but other than that the room was used for purely sleeping and the wake up call was at nine o'clock.

"I call top bunk!" Frypan smiled as soon as he saw the rows of bunk beds lined up against the walls on either side of the room, but Minho had already claimed the one he was aiming for.

"Too slow," The oriental boy teased as he snapped his fingers towards the ex-cook who grumbled and settled for the bottom of the bunk.

"I could get used to this..." Winston smiled, patting his full stomach and crossing his legs as he lay on his own bottom bunk.

"Yeah," Newt found himself agreeing as Inka looked around the room strangely. "It's not bad."

Then, as if on cue, the door swung shut and a series of clicks followed. Six heads flipped towards the sound of the noise and almost immediately Inka went to check if the door truly had been locked behind them. She tugged on the metal hinges as hard as she could, trying both sides to see if she was pulling on the right side before huffing and accepting that it was locked with a small curse. As disconcerting as it was to be locked back into a stone box for an evening, there was nothing that the group could do. Again, they were trapped and left wondering. It was becoming a pattern.

"What did you think those guys were doing with Teresa?" Thomas questioned as soon as Inka had given up her struggle with the door.

"Well, if there's one thing I know about the women we've had the..." Newt frowned playfully as he tried to decide on a word that correctly described the boys' experiences with the two women that had joined their ranks before eventually choosing the nicer word. " _Pleasure_ to meet in the last month or two, it's that they can take care of themselves."

Inka snorted slightly as she breezed past the two chatting boys to climb up on one of the top bunks, indicating that she had heard the comment and making Newt smile in satisfaction. She was slightly concerned about Teresa herself, but trusted the medical staff in the facility well enough to believe that they were indeed taking good care of her and would return the girl in due time. It would be silly of them to make her disappear; all of the current survivors present in the base were already on high alert – they were bound to notice and become suspicious if members of their ranks simply vanished at the hands of Janson and his men.

The British boy assured Thomas that no harm was going to come to Teresa before telling him to get some rest and clambering up the ladder into the top bunk placed beside Inka's. She situated herself on top of the covers, testing out the pillow to see if it was comfortable before laying down on it and curling into a ball. She felt most protected that way – covering her precious internal organs with the position and making sure that her back was against the wall. Newt regarded her for a moment with a small smile playing on his lips before getting comfortable himself as well, lying on his side so that their heads were closest to each other.

"Goodnight Inka," He murmured, hoping that tomorrow would yield answers he knew the group was striving for.

"Goodnight Newt," She whispered back, her mind already falling into the realm of the dream world.

* * *

 _ **'Subject five, you have ten minutes to complete the trial. Do you understand?'**_

The first thing Inka heard when she came to hours later was a voice that was playing in her head like a broken record, repeating information she knew was stored somewhere in the back of her subconscious and could only be accessed when dreaming. But this was different – she was having a flashback, and she knew it. It was if she was existing somewhere in between awake and dreaming; a place where it was possible to find some of the answers that she wanted to unlock so badly.

 _ **'You have ten minutes to complete the trial. You cannot leave. You must complete the trial.'**_

 _She couldn't utter a response, but there was a loud buzzer ringing in her ear making her jerk, and suddenly it was as if she was in the maze again. Except this memory was nothing but white walls – white walls surrounding her and enveloping her in their cold embrace. They were the same white walls she had seen on her screen – the walls she recognized the infrastructure from her most recent encounter in real life. They were moving just the same and the sounds of life were just the same; bugs buzzing in her ears and foliage hanging down the sides of the structures. She did not take into account, however, that the ringing in between her ears was much louder and stronger than any noise in the maze. Then, out of nowhere, she was running again; running for her life and flying by corridors faster than she could ever imagine herself to go. She could hear the horrible, familiar sounds of the Grievers behind her and all their slimy glory, hissing and screeching as they clambered down the corridors behind in. Her breath increased and her speed picked up, although she could not feel sweat forming on her brow as it was supposed to naturally do. She did not feel the wind in her face or the warmth of the rare strands of sunlight breaching through the real maze walls that hit her skin, nor could she hear the beats of Minho's feet running alongside her. She was alone, but this was not the first time she had performed this exercise._

 _Suddenly, she was grasped by a large appendage and swept backwards, her feet falling out from under her. Although she let out many cries and screams of help, no voice responded to her and she was dragged backwards towards the beasts that were chasing her. She tried to struggle and squirm against the creature's hold, managing to kick one of it's mechanical legs away so that she could slide beneath it. Unfortunately, the creature chose that moment to shift backwards to try and find where she had crawled to, and the movements of it's gruesome body caused the various needles and spikes it was lined with to collide with Inka's face. The girl screamed in pain and slammed her eyes shut as a form of defense, kicking whatever part of the creature she could whilst partially blinded and trying to ignore the immense pain that came with the large injuries on her face. Her body seemed to go numb with shock as she fought her way out from under the creature, taking off in a dead sprint towards a large open area that she could make out and understanding that she needed to make it to the checkpoint in time for the trial to be complete. She burst past the contrasting red line painted on the floor as soon as the buzzer clicked, the creature letting out a shriek of disappointment as soon as it discovered that it would not get its hands on her when a large wall slammed down in front of it. She turned the other way, expecting to find a reward or a passageway of some sort for surviving, but was only greeted with large black combat soldiers donned in black that wielded assault rifles and a large syringe of some sort. No matter how much she backed away or tried to slither from their hands, they grew closer and more plentiful by the second and she knew she was completely cornered._

 _Inka gave one final scream of horror before they grasped her and shoved the needle into her neck._

And then suddenly she was awake, gasping for air as if she was taking her first breaths all over again. The British boy who had been sleeping close to her woke with a start as well, immediately reacting to her sudden panic by grasping her shoulders and shaking them to try and get her attention. She had no idea what time it was and experienced a certain disorientation as well as a ringing in her ears for a moment before remembering where the group had been cooped up in for the night. She could feel Newt grasping her face that had gone numb and her eyes connected with his as she panted in the dark, reaching up to grasp one of his wrists to show that she was no longer in immediate panic mode. The ringing in her ears faded in seconds and she could hear Newt murmuring questions about what was wrong and what she had dreamed of.

"White walls," She gasped, placing a hand on her forehead and feeling the scar starting there as she recalled her first real visual memory. "White walls..."

"White walls – like on your screen?" Newt asked for clarification, frowning as he did so and climbing easily into her bunk before wrapping an arm around her shivering form and rubbing to keep her warm.

"I remember," She murmured, refusing to meet his eyes and instead letting out a short disbelieving breath as her heartbeat steadied. "I remember the trials. White walls...the buzzer – and the voice."

"Who's voice?"

She paused, closing her eyes for a moment as she tried to remember what sort of voice had been blasting in her dream and groaning in frustration when she couldn't come up with anything. It was infuriating once more; as if someone was teasing her by pulling at the strings of her brain that held all of the locked up answers. She felt like a puppet – a used puppet that had run its course but was still being teased by it's master.

"I don't remember," The repeated phrase caused Inka's head to hang low as she covered her face with both of her hands and began to sob. Newt grew desperate at this point, not wanting to see her tears overwhelm her once more, and held her even tighter in hopes to prevent more sobs from escaping her throat.

"It's okay," He assured, murmuring that everything was going to be all right in the end and that she would get her memory back, knowing that it was the only thing he could do in the moment. "It's okay not to remember."

"I r-remember the Grievers," She stuttered suddenly in between fits of tears, lifting her head and tugging her hair in frustration as she ignored Newt's advice. "I remember t-that. I remember running – and my a-accident," She motioned to her face where the scars lay. "That was t-trial eighty four – that's why they h-had it up on the s-screen. I r-remember that, a-and I remember the needle."

"Needle?" Newt's mind flitted back to the day's previous events where she had been reflexively petrified of the sharp object entering her body. He focused his efforts on grasping her hand, loosely prying it from it's spot at the top of her head where she was practically tearing her hear out in frustration for not able to remember the dream.

"Yeah," Inka wiped the tears away from her eyes, trying to focus now as she recognized the importance of her memories. "And lots of black. There was a red line on the floor – the whole thing seemed so short it only felt like a couple of seconds."

Newt was silent, choosing to rub her back in circles instead of simply squeeze her from the side.

"But I know it was longer," She continued, mulling over her own dream. "They must have done it so many times if it said eighty four...why can't I remember any of the others?"

"They could have swiped you..." Newt murmured, hesitant to accept that it could have been a possibility but knowing fully well that if WCKD was to capture anyone and conduct experimentation as violent as what she had been put through, it was in their best interests to swipe their minds each time they performed a test.

The problem was that they had no idea how to tell how many tests Inka had been put through. She had no idea how much time she had even been detained for or the reason they had initially picked her for. Besides her convenient immunity, there was no reason for her not to have been sent up to another Glade or have joined Newt's community sooner. There was no recollection of the passing of time to aid the British girl in puzzling out how long WCKD had kept her before sending her up to the Glade, and the only clue was the number eighty four that stated no importance besides the fact that it was the number of the trial in which she had received her injury; the proof that the screen had not lied.

"Yeah," She admitted, not liking that possibility but accepting it as a reality. "They could have swiped me..."

The two British teens sat in silence for a bit longer, enjoying each others presence as opposed to sharing words. Inka grew tired after her panic and was practically falling asleep in her sitting position next to Newt. The British boy held her contentedly, letting a rare smile grace his features as her head drooped down to rest naturally in the crook of his neck. If he had had a previous life, Newt realized, he would have enjoyed spending it this way. His instincts told him that making someone feel safe and comforted each day was the right thing to do if you cared for someone, and he found himself calmed as well when she would touch him or he listened to her gentle breathing.

Unfortunately, Newt was no stranger to the fact that all good things needed to come to an end, and he gently placed Inka back down in a horizontal position on her bunk before clambering into his and reverting back to his original position where their heads were closest together. They both needed a proper sleep, and he felt the best thing to do was to return her to her cot so that he could get rest as well. He murmured one last goodnight, even though he knew Inka was already fast asleep.

Little did Newt know, even sleep could not properly prepare them for Thomas' recollection of events the next day.


	12. Lies

**Lies**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.** **  
**

Before the guards came to pick them up in the morning, Thomas managed to rise his group several minutes earlier and try to explain to them what he had seen in the tunnel with Aris - a skinny boy who had been the longest resident in Janson's base and who had happened to notice Thomas' outbreak when the boy had spotted Teresa yesterday. He described the way he had clambered through the shafts of the facility behind the other maze survivor, spotting bodies being moved into a room and how Aris had told him that they did not come back out. The frail boy had been monitoring the movements of the workers at this mysterious base since he had arrived, and had reached the new survivors' room by a series of air ventilation shafts that the military base clearly did not care enough to screw shut properly. Thomas had explained that Aris had been able to navigate his way through the facility easily, and upon his arrival was already combing through the shafts to find out what was off about the place. He had also mentioned that the tunnels were quite large, big enough to fit bodies and usable as escape shafts. Thomas did not mention everything else that Aris had discovered, but there was no doubt that he was the most knowledgeable person in the general survivor's ranks so far.

This news immediately set Inka on edge, and as soon as Thomas had finished his story she muttered a very bitter 'I knew it' that initiated her into tugging her short locks again. This time it took Newt several seconds to realize she was pulling at the strands before he corrected her behavior and prevent her from hurting herself.

"Great – more secrets," She steamed, practically steaming as Thomas shared a gaze with her.

"You're sure you saw bodies – are you one hundred percent sure?" Minho double checked with Thomas, gulping as the boy nodded in confirmation.

"What else could they be?" He spread his arms. "They were covered in sheets – Aris says they go in every night and never come back out."

"But that doesn't mean they were bodies," Newt suggested, hope still dwindling that this base had some good in it. "It could have been anything – weapons, samples...anything."

"I don't think so Newt..." Thomas looked at him doubtfully, as if he knew the British boy was trying to make up any excuse he could find to maintain faith that this facility was good. He also knew, however, that Newt was aware that not every story ended in paradise and that it was very probably that this institution was withholding damaging secrets. There was no denying the fact that something fishy was going on; it was just a matter of getting everyone in the room to accept that they needed to educate themselves and accept that fact.

"And Aris is the little skinny guy?" Frypan clarified, squinting his eyes while he tried to accept what was being recited to him.

"Yeah..." Thomas sighed loudly, putting a hand to his forehead in stress as he looked around his circle of friends who were looking more and more concerned by the second. "Shit, guys. What are we gonna do?"

There were several beats of silence as the group stared at each other, trying to figure out the best game plan. There was not much they could do at the moment as they had a limited amount of information, but it was clear that something fishy was going on and they didn't want to stick around until every last group besides them had been sucked into body bags. Unfortunately, none of the survivors got a chance to speak up before their military escort had arrived, announcing that it was time for breakfast.

Frypan decided to take it upon himself to ask about the schedule, trying to make his tone nonchalant and succeeding well enough that the guard explained to him that the survivors had three mealtimes and hours of recreation in the gym, lounge – that conveniently held uncomfortable couches and nothing else – or their rooms. This surprised most of the survivors, as they had expected a bit more of a rigid program that could have educated them on more about what was going on in the outside world, how they could protect themselves and eventually be given the option to leave the base. But based on this soldier's definition of the way this place was run as well as his tendency to watch and escort them at all times, no one was leaving any time soon.

In fact, it took a day of moseying around – most of the new survivors were too exhausted to force themselves onto a treadmill or use a weight set, and Newt spent most of the day coaxing Inka to feed herself more as she was looking much healthier – for the whole group to realize that no one even questioned what horrid things the soldiers had been shooting at nor bothered to notice that there were guards standing at every corner to make sure no one left the white walled area. The door marked with hazard tape that the survivors had initially crossed through was never mentioned again, and no one was taking any further steps to educate the youths in the facility about what the plans for the world were. Most of the researchers walking through the corridors kept to themselves, not paying any mind to the whispered conversations that Thomas continued to initiate about the apparent bodies he had seen.

The slow day eventually came to a closing, and all that was left to get through was the last meal of the day where the group hoped not to get their names called. Losing someone to Janson's glorified 'next life' was not an option, especially when no one had any idea of what went on behind those steel doors that opened and shut every night with new survivors behind it, and also considering the fact that the only clue they had so far was Thomas' recollection of body bags being wheeled through corridors. The new arrivals found themselves continuing to debate the topic of exactly what Thomas had seen the night before, only growing more and more anxious as they realized that there was a looming threat over their heads that was indeed very real.

Just before the last meal of the day they congregated back in the sleeping pod they had been assigned to and engaged in once more conversation about what they were going to do, allowing Thomas to show them the vent with the loose hinges. Newt continued to question what his friend had seen, despite his brain telling him over and over again that no matter what the bags had been there was something off about the facility altogether.

Before they could decide on a definite game plan, the large metal door in the room opened with a clank to reveal their same military escort looking rather grumpy and unhappy about the fact that they were all practically bouncing on their heels to get out of the room again. Nonetheless, he refrained from commenting and simply stood guard outside the door until the group had exited, then locked it behind them and lead them back towards the cafeteria where dinner was available. The group shared wary looks with each other at this point, finally realizing that this idolized institution was quite possibly a threat, and tried to serve themselves food as if nothing was wrong. Upon their arrival at a table – they could not find the only friend they had made so far – they began to eat in an eerie silence with what felt like large stones weighing down their stomachs.

"Good evening!" Janson's voice made Inka jump slightly and drop her fork, allowing it to clatter against the table. She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes for a moment in frustration, cursing her nerves for allowing her to become so frazzled, but when Newt placed his hand on her back she settled down into reality once more and began to listen to what Janson was saying. "Let's begin, shall we? I'm sure you're all excited to hear who's next."

More laughs and smiles greeted the ears of the more than suspicious Gladers, whom Janson's eyes passed over as he did a visual sweep of the entire room. His gaze did not catch their expressions however, as he was rather distracted with thoughts involving a certain blonde doctor clad in white and the list of children he was ordered to fetch next. The youth sitting in the room were like pieces of meat, and Janson found himself to be more of a vulture than anything else in the moment.

"Alice...Barry...Walt...Edgar...Samantha," He began, reciting each name like a mantra, looking strangely at each thrilled survivor that passed by him to move onto what they believed to be their new lives. "Sally..."

"I want to know what's through that door," Thomas gritted his teeth, glaring towards Janson as he read off more names and watching as his coworkers unlocked the infamous door.

"We went over this a hundred times today," Newt sighed, trying to reanimate the possibility that perhaps Thomas had not seen things clearly the night before. "You said they were covered up – so you don't know what you saw. It could have been anything under there, no?"

"I know what I saw," Thomas shook his head indignantly. "They were bodies. Like I said – Aris says they bring in a new batch every night 'like clockwork'.

"Yeah," Minho shook his head side to side as if he hated to admit it. "I'm sold – this is bad."

"Harry...and last but not least – David." Janson's voice came into focus once more as the table fell silent. "Thank you for your attention! Enjoy the rest of your evening."

"We don't know anything for certain yet," Newt pointed out, as soon as the claps of the survivors around them had faded away and the children who had been called upon were beginning to file through the mystery door. "For now we should just keep our heads down and try not to draw any attention to ourselves, all right?"

Almost like a bullet following a gunshot, Thomas launched himself off the table and towards the doors he had been glaring at for the past several minutes after Newt finished speaking.

"What is he doing?" Inka tensed up immediately, looking after the moving boy with a very large frown marring her face.

"I think he's drawing attention to himself," Frypan quipped, quoting Newt from seconds earlier.

"No..." Newt's fingernails nearly tore into his own palm as he made fists so hard he thought he was going to bleed. "No, no..."

The group watched wide-eyed as Thomas tried to make his way in a rather nonchalant fashion with the rest of the youths. He was stopped quickly, the guards on either side of the door shaking their heads at him while the rest of the cafeteria looked on awkwardly. Several went back to eating and conversation, but most stared openly. Thomas tried to push through once more, but the guard replied rather roughly and shoved a finger in his chest as if he was commanding him. At this point Thomas turned and looked as if he was going to retreat, but in the blink of an eye he was throwing himself at the guard yet again with everything he could muster.

"Back off!" The guard grunted loudly, catching the attention of everyone in the cafeteria as he pushed Thomas back several feet. The boy threw himself at the military man again however, this time with a growl.

"What's your problem, man?!" He tried to wrap his arms around the larger male for leverage, but failed once more.

"Uh oh," Frypan was on his feet in a matter of seconds, as was the rest of the table back towards the centre of the cafeteria.

The group of five rushed towards the door where the guard continued to shove Thomas, holding their friend back as he yelled at the guard to let him through the door. There were a series of cries as everyone tried to keep him calm, wondering what the hell had gotten through his head. The game plan so far had been to keep quiet and gain more information – not to head straight into the mystery door and reveal themselves as problem children.

"What's going on here?!" The rather authoritative tone of Janson took over the situation as he burst into the scene, metallic door shutting behind him.

He was greeted with the rather angry face of Thomas and his astonished group, holding him back from attacking the guard once more who was looking quite ruffled himself. This was the first act of insubordination that had occurred in the facility since Janson had begun to take the survivors in, and the leather coated man was not at all surprised that Thomas had been the perpetrator in this situation.

"Thomas..." Janson spoke quietly, as if he was trying to speak privately to the visibly upset boy. "I thought we could trust each other? You know we're all on the same team here."

Something in the man's eyes flickered at that moment, just the same as Gally's eyes had betrayed him before Inka had left the Glade. She blanched for a moment, recovering only when Newt sent her a glance that indicated he had noticed it too before returning her attention to the situation at hand. They were most definitely going to discuss this entire ordeal later, but the fact of the matter was that at the moment they were standing on very thin ice. They had no idea what this base truly was all about, and if their suspicions were correct they had nothing to be excited about on the other side of that door. If Janson became upset with them and their behavior there was no telling what he could do. Speaking of the man, it was at this point that he placed a hand on Thomas' shoulder, as if he was comforting a small child who had just had a temper tantrum.

"Are we?" Thomas questioned softly, suspiciously calm after his particularly violent outburst moments ago.

Janson's hand faltered in it's spot where he had been patting Thomas, and he issued a grim smile before commanding one of the guards to lead the group to their bunks. The man clad in black said no more words to the group as they were lead away, instead choosing to shout for all of the youths to tuck in for the night. Moments later, the rowdy six found themselves being thrown rather roughly into their sleeping chamber for the night with nothing more than an 'in!' from their escort to comfort them.

"What the hell?!" Inka spun around and glared at Thomas as soon as the door had slammed shut and locked behind them. "What the bloody fuck was all that?!"

"You didn't really think that they were just gonna let you through?" Newt asked incredulously, wondering how his friend could be so stupid.

"No," Thomas shook his head, pulling out a key card that the survivors gaped at. "Of course not – we're gonna find out what's on the other side of that door."

Several of the members of the group groaned, clasping their heads and trying to grapple with the fact that they were again met with stresses after their rescue. It was supposed to be over – everything was supposed to be different and better upon their escape but so far it was looking to be an even bigger nightmare if Thomas's suspicions were true. Who could they trust?

"They're hiding something, ok?" Thomas shook his head at his friends' reactions, heading towards the vent that he had shown the group. "These people are not who they say they are."

"No Thomas," Newt shook his head, still striving to believe that Janson had more than one motive. "The only thing that we do know right now is that they helped rescue us from WCKD. They gave us food, clothing, and a place to sleep. Some of us haven't had that in a long time."

"Yeah, but..." Thomas butted in, trying to explain himself once more.

"Some of us a lot _longer_ than others," Newt wasn't finished talking, and his last bitter statement made Inka turn her head to look at him instead of the boy holding the key card. It was at this point that she saw just how relieved Newt would have been to see this sort of technology and care again; he had been deprived of it for so long without knowing what normal meant that it would have been rather addicting to be thrust head first into a normal world. She understood why he was hesitant to believe something was flawed in it, although she herself could even see where Thomas was coming from.

Suddenly there was a large clanging, and the grate Thomas had been steadily moving towards burst off the wall underneath his bed. Aris came clambering out, looking up at the six shocked Gladers and waving his hand awkwardly.

"Hey Thomas..." He chimed, nonchalant. "Got anything?"

"Yeah," Thomas waved the key card towards him, hunkering down to join him under the bed where he was going to climb back into the vent. "Alright – maybe you guys are right and I am just being paranoid. I gotta find out for sure; can you cover me? I'll be back as soon as I can."

Before the rest of the group could even say anything, Thomas had disappeared underneath the bed and the noises of him crawling through the shaft filled the room.

The survivors shared frustrated glances with one another as soon as the noises were gone, some pacing and others – such as Newt and Inka – deciding to sit down to try and calm their nerves. Once again, the two British teenagers found themselves sitting side by side as close as possible so that every inch of their sides were touching. It was comforting for both of them to feel the presence of another person so close their body heat radiated and the thrum of energy was felt with every heartbeat. They sat like that for at least twenty minutes, not moving or saying anything until a familiar scraping noise could be heard from underneath Thomas's bunk.

"We've gotta go!" The boy burst into the room, face pale and concerned as he launched into action and began to tie bed sheets to the door to keep it shut. "We gotta go – we gotta get out of here!"

"What are you talking about?" At least two of the other boys in the room asked at once, baffled by his actions and staring at him as if he had grown a second head.

"They're coming!" Thomas darted around the room, taking as much bedding as he could from the bunks. "They're coming for us!"

"Aris!" Frypan turned to the smaller boy in desperation when he realized Thomas was not responding to their questions. "What happened?!"

"Thomas – can you just calm down and talk to us?!" Newt begged of his friend who was rapidly tying more and more sheets to the door.

"Who's coming?" Inka cried, lifting her hands in confusion and trying to understand what Thomas was talking about. Was there method in his madness?

"It's WCKD!" Thomas cried, sweating profusely as he continued to tie bed sheets to the door and picked up a mattress off of the closest bed. "It's always been WCKD!"

"Thomas," Newt slammed a hand on the padding that Thomas leaned against the door, staring down at his distraught friend with an intense glare. "What did you see?"

The boy in question took a breath to calm himself down, recognizing that his frantic behavior was only confusing his friends, and began to explain everything in rapid detail.

The horrors he described were enough to bring tears to Inka's eyes; he talked of hundreds bodies being drained of everything they were worth and that Ava Paige was alive. He had seen her on the monitor speaking with Janson, explaining how they were all in high demand and the program needed all of the survivors in stasis as soon as possible. His assumptions had been right about the bodies; the 'new lives' Janson had promised were nothing more than body bags that lead straight to horrifying chambers where he described tubes being hooked up to bodies. Whatever WCKD's plan was with hooking up these innocent children – the same innocent children they had captured, tortured and subjected to tests for years –Janson was clearly on board with. Considering Thomas and Aris had no information as to what the bodies were being drained of, it made their entire story seem even more disgusting and appalling.

The terrifying tale was thankfully enough to convince the rest of the group that this facility was no longer what they had been under the impression it was, and before Thomas knew it the rest of his friends were helping him barricade the door as best they could before following him into the vent. Inka was slightly hesitant to climb inside the small space, but after Aris, Thomas and Minho had gone Newt managed to coax her into the boxed tunnel with the promise that he would be right behind her. With Winston bringing up the rear of the escape group all of the survivors crawled as fast as they could behind Aris, who rapidly led them through a series of twists and turns until they reached an exit shaft several minutes later.

"Alright come on," Thomas quickly cleared the area and made sure there were no militia before ushering his friends out of the shaft. "Hurry!"

At this point Inka's adrenaline was taking over, and she realized that a day or two of rest despite the mental stresses that accompanied being paranoid and locked up once more actually did some good. She felt more energetic and more prepared to deal with traumatic situations, although she knew that nothing could prepare her for what could happen.

"Wait – guys, there's something I gotta do!" Aris hung back as soon as all of the survivors were safely out of the shaft, crouching into the vent they had just crawled out of.

"What?" Thomas retorted in disbelief, wondering where he could possibly be going.

"Trust me - it's important," Aris assured, fixing all of the Gladers with a poignant look. "You guys wanna get out of here, right?"

"I'll go with him," Winston assured, crouching into the vent with the small boy when it was obvious that the group was concerned about Aris's intentions and did not reply to him for a second.

"Ok, ok," Thomas finally agreed and nodded along, hurrying the two boys into the shaft only to close it in their wake. "Just go! Hurry!"

"Sure we can trust the kid?" Minho hurried along as the five ex-Gladers ran down the long corridor, blind as to which direction they were heading.

"Trust me," Thomas panted as they sprinted along. "We wouldn't be anywhere without him."

The group turned a corridor, expecting to find an empty hallway but instead running straight into a tall African-American doctor in a long white lab coat who looked rather shocked to see them. She let out a surprised yelp and backed up slightly, heels clacking on the linoleum floor, before fixing them with a stern gaze. Thomas recognized her – she had been the doctor who he had seen Teresa with last in the medical bay, which made her all the more susceptible to distrust.

"What are you kids doing out?" She frowned suspiciously at the sight of all of them, particularly Inka who was looking extremely invigorated and upset at the moment.

Much to the group's dismay, the alarm began to wail seconds later and the doctor's eyes widened when she realized that there had been a breach of security.

"Dammit to hell," Inka cursed before Minho lunged at the female, realizing that they were going to have to take her hostage.

The medical professional squealed in protest, becoming overpowered by the sheer amount of boys ganging up on her and taking her and forcing her to guide them through several sets of corridors. Thomas had declared that their terms were to lead the group to Teresa, and the female doctor did not even stop to question what the group would do to her if she did not follow suit. The group, which now consisted of six members including the doctor – and two running loose somewhere in the shafts – ran through many identical white hallways.

"FREEZE!" A soldier rounded the next corner as soon as all of the Gladers had revealed themselves, pointing an assault rifle at them and firing. "Don't move!"

Newt quickly grasped a seemingly paralyzed Inka by the waist, pulling her out of harms way and shielding her behind the wall where she was safe from the strange type of bullets the soldier's gun fired. The impact sizzled the wall the Gladers had just been standing in front of, letting out a buzz and several sparks of electricity. It only took a minute for everyone to realize the bullets were essentially small voltage packets, and that their purpose was to disable instead of kill. This meant that at the very least the facility had not issued a kill-order, and instead wanted them alive.

"Thanks," Inka gave Newt a sharp nod, eyes wide in recognition as to what her closest friend had saved her from before they took off down the opposite corridor.

Minho, however, had a different plan – the boy lagged back behind the entire group and completely ignored Thomas's shouts of protest, instead acknowledging that the soldier would chase them and was likely going to round the corner soon. If he hurried, he would be able to collide with him fast enough and perhaps cause enough injury to disable him. The ex-runner took a leap of faith, sprinting in the direction of the intersection in which the group had just been fired at and jumping at the last second only to collide with the overweight form of their perpetrator. As soon as the kick had been laid to his face Minho took the chance to lay a punch on the man for good measure, watching as he slumped down to the ground.

"Shit, Minho!" Newt and the others had reached his location, and Thomas quickly picked up the gun before holding it towards the doctor's back.

"Come on," He growled, getting everyone to begin sprinting again in the original direction they had been heading towards before their diversion. "Let's go. Help us find Teresa or you're getting a bullet in your back."

Newt was surprised to hear the threat come out of his friend's mouth, but knew that desperate times called for desperate measures and that Thomas was merely trying to save as many people as he could. He spared a glance at Inka as the entire group ran along, taking into account the intensity of her eyes and just how vivid the grey in them had become. It was as if her eyes brewed up storms each time there was conflict, and although they were in imminent danger at the moment he still found the time to notice the little things. He was quickly refocused on the task at hand when his eyes attached to the large scrape across one of her collarbones, obviously having been received when they were escaping the maze but having been exposed when she had changed into a black tank earlier that morning. Those sorts of injuries brought him back to reality, and he found himself refocused on the next winding hallway that the group traveled down more intently.

The doctor lead them through several more corridors, taking many left and right hand turns before a door could be seen hidden to the left that required a key code. With a little extra nudge of the assault rifle in her back the African-American doctor produced a key card from her pocket and swiped it, peeking her head inside the room as if to check that it was clear. If there was anyone inside, the group could at least ride off the possibility that they were not seen and it was as if the female doctor was alone. Thankfully, this plan was successful.

"Doctor Crawford?" A voice inside the small room could be heard, and as soon as it was confirmed that there were people behind the door Thomas burst in with the large assault rifle.

"Woah!" The medical professional, one of four inside, leapt back as Thomas wielded the large weapon in their faces.

"Where is she?" He demanded quietly at first, but as soon as he realized they weren't going to give him a response he repeated it louder. "Where is she?!"

Thomas followed the medical staffs' frantic, beady eyes towards a curtain in the far corner of the room, and with a small grunt he passed the assault rifle off to Minho to drag it open. Teresa's body was revealed, curled up in a fetal position as she slept attached to various tubes. One of them was connected to her nose and supplying oxygen whilst several others were monitoring her heart rate and her oxygen levels.

"Get down!" Minho ordered all of the staff as Thomas fully woke Teresa up, fear brewing in the pit of the latter's stomach as he realized that the doctors could have done all sorts of things to her. "Down! Now!"

The staff obeyed, watching all of the youth cautiously and with a large portion of actual panic in their eyes when they acknowledged that the survivors had fully realized their motives. Nonetheless, this did not stop them from chanting that the group would be caught and turned in eventually.

"Thomas?" Inka could hear Teresa's voice, weak and tired, from behind Thomas's large form. "What's going on?"

"Give me your hands!" Newt bellowed, distracting the British girl from Teresa's confused state of mind and making her jump as she watched her friend grab the medical tape from a side table and begin to tie all of the medical staffs' hands together.

"We gotta go," Thomas helped Teresa out of the bed, and Inka could hear the girl struggle as she tried to lift her form. "Right now, come on."

Inka quickly ran over to assist Teresa out of the bed, noticing the girl's expression when she recognized the small British spitfire and murmured her name in relief. Both Inka and Thomas pulled Teresa out of the bed, disconnecting her medical tubes and safely setting her on her feet before handing her a set of pants to pull on. The doctors had not garbed her in much before they had done whatever procedures on her, and as a result Teresa needed to hurry to clothe herself before the onslaught of WCKD was upon them.

"Guys!" Frypan whined from the door, looking out the bulletproof glass window nervously when Janson and his men rounded the corner. "They're coming! Where do we go?!"

"Frypan – move!" Newt thought quickly, spotting a table that could be moved and lunging towards it at the last minute to blockade the door. The large metal object clanged on the ground, spilling all of it's medical contents and effectively blockading the door to buy the group some time to escape. It was at this point that soldiers began to try and barge into the room, shoving against the door that Newt had done a good job of protecting and trying to find some leeway to shoot off their weapons.

"We gotta get out of here, where do we go?!" Minho was still wielding the assault rifle towards the door where soldiers were bashing themselves against it in efforts to get it open, and the rest of the survivors tried to think of an idea.

Unfortunately, the room looked to be a dead end besides a large plate of glass separating the survivors and the next door they needed to get through. Thomas quickly realized this, and yelled for everyone to stand back as handed Teresa off to Inka and grabbed a stool to smash the glass with. One hit against it did nothing, but when Newt quickly realized what Thomas was trying to do he grabbed a stool himself with a surprising amount of strength and assisted his friend. On the quick count of three both of them bashed at the window with all of their might and the glass rained down on them heavily, creating a large noise and propelling all of the survivors into action.

"Go, go, go!" Minho shouted as he prepared to fire at the soldiers who had nearly gotten half of one of their squad in the door. "Hurry up!"

Teresa threw a blanket down on the window, providing safe passage through the glass covered hole in the wall and realizing that the last thing they needed at the moment was to be poked by sharp shards of any kind. Thomas was the first over the hump, pulling a very anxious Teresa over with him, and at that point it was Frypan's turn. Then, unexpectedly, Newt grabbed Inka roughly by the waist and practically threw her tiny form over to the other side of the wall only to ignore her yelp of shock and instead launching himself over only to shield her with his body upon arrival on the other side. Winston went next and Minho was the last to go, throwing his assault rifle to Thomas before he clambered over the edge of the broken window.

"Behind me!" Thomas reprimanded as he opened the next door, only to come face to face with a very unprepared guard. "Wh-"

It took a split second for Thomas' shock to wear off, and without thinking he fired off a round of the assault rifle he was holding directly into the soldier's chest. The man went flying back, impacted severely by the jolt of electricity that had been fired atop where his head lay, and continued to convulse on the ground as Thomas stared at the weapon he wielded in wonder. Hopefully all of the soldier's guns contained these sorts of bullets, otherwise there was a very limited chance for their survival.

"Let's go!" Thomas tore through the next set of corridors, realizing that the scenery was becoming vaguely familiar and that the original door they had come through was close.

Luckily enough, with the next hard right the group took they found themselves greeted with the large metallic entryway they had come in from a mere several days ago, and sprinted towards it. They had a good several seconds ahead of Janson and his men, but upon reaching the door and swiping the key card they had stolen through the key pad they realized that it was not working. Either the card had been disabled upon the guard's realization that his card had been lost or stolen, or the door was somehow permanently locked with no access regardless of whatever key passed through. Despite all of these odds, Thomas continued to swipe the card through the keypad vigorously hoping for a change.

"Thomas!" A voice called from the end of the corridor, and the Gladers turned in horror only to see Janson – flanked by three doctors, all of which were carrying heavy combat shields, and three soldiers, which were all wielding rifles – heading their way.

"Open this door, Janson!" Thomas spat, pointing his gun towards the rat man as Minho took over trying to swipe the key card through the door.

"You really don't want me to," Janson held his hands up in mock surrender, creeping closer with every second that the key card refused to cooperate with the door.

"Open the damned door!" Thomas roared, taking another step towards the slimy man.

"Listen to me!" Janson tried to reason with partially false logic. "I'm trying to save your lives! The maze is one thing, but you kids wouldn't last one day out in the scorch. If the elements don't kill you the cranks will, and Thomas – for the sake of you and your friends you have to believe me. I only want what's best for you."

"No," Inka balled her fists up, eyes wide and challenging as she looked down the long corridor towards Janson. "That's a lie – you're lying."

"Ah - there she is. Our little manufactured record-breaker," Janson smiled eerily, gazing at the tiny girl partially sheltered behind Newt. He was still overwhelmed at the sheer comparability of their match, surprised that even in the most dangerous circumstances the two still exhibited what he and Paige liked to call a class one pairing. They had been the sole surviving match pair and were bound to exceed expectations, but Janson could not control that in the scorch and knew that Paige would be extremely upset to learn that all of these beautiful subjects had gone to waste – especially her favorite. Likewise, Janson did not want to lose his fastest immune runner that he had grown accustomed to having around for so long, and recognized that if she was held back losing her match after having successfully paired with him after three years (thus proving Paige's estimation) it would not bode well for Inka. Overall, it would have been better if the overall group surrendered quietly, but Janson had a feeling this would not be the case.

Speaking of the girl, her eyes widened momentarily in recognition of the fact that Janson knew something about her trials, before she ducked behind Newt completely and grasped his shirt in terror. She did not know what this man wanted or needed from her, but he had fooled them into thinking that he was a helper and this could only mean danger. Especially if he was in direct connection with the trials she had been tested in. Newt, who was confused and equally as petrified as he watched Janson grow closer and closer to their location, simply held Inka behind him and tried to make himself the best human shield possible in the moment whilst Minho continued to swipe the key card furiously.

"Come now - are you not the least bit curious, Inka?"

The girl hidden behind Newt tensed even further as the leather clad man addressed her directly once more. She did not step out from behind Newt's form and instead tightened her hold on his shirt.

"You do know that the Inca empire was famous for their Chasqui runners, don't you?" Janson's tone was patronizing, as if he had been the very one to deprive her of this information. "Of course you do – they supported the entire civilization with their rapid messaging system. One letter of your name does not change the meaning of your purpose, Inka. You are our property, just the same as all of your friends."

"Fuck off," Thomas growled, jaw clenched in fury as he protected his friends. "If you come any closer, I'll shoot!"

"The number was eight hundred, Inka." Janson ignored Thomas' threat, moving closer step by step as he fixated his gaze on Inka. If he could not break Paige's favorite subject, he could certainly break his own – and he knew Inka's brain like the back of his hand. In fact, the rat man nearly smiled when he saw her head poke out behind Newt's shoulder, her face a mask of dread. "Eight hundred trials. You were with us for three years – your place is not outside in the scorch. You have no idea the research we accumulated with you; come back to us and we will find a place for you."

"No – no, no, no, no," Inka was repeating, adamantly denying everything that Janson was telling her in efforts to shut out the fact that he had most likely just told her the truth about her trials in efforts to get her to stay. The sheer number was not possible...eight hundred? They must have swiped her mind an equal amount of times if she could not remember any of it. "No, no, no..."

"You six are not getting through that door," Janson pulled out his last card, seeing that it was time to switch to physical tactics, but was interrupted when the airlock door opened to reveal Aris and Winston on the other side.

"Hey guys!" Aris panted, just as incredulous as the survivors that he had made it just in time.

"No way," Frypan muttered before darting through the open passage. "All right Aris!"

"Thomas!" Newt cried for his friend, pulling Inka along who was still repeating the same word over and over again. "Come on, let's go!"

The group on the other side of the door watched as Thomas fired off several rounds of the assault rifle towards the group of adults, tossing the weapon in frustration when it clicked empty and instead made a run for the door. The soldiers were soon on his heels, refusing to fire their weapons under direct order of Janson who was trying his best to catch up to Thomas as well. The Gladers began to cry out for their friend, telling him to run as fast as he could before the soldiers caught up. Unfortunately, it would soon be a race against the machinery as well.

"Shut the main vault door!" Janson chanted into his earpiece as the boy hurtled towards the strongest exit they had.

"Come on, Thomas! Push!" Inka shouted, snapping out of her mantra of words as she prayed for the boy to be fast enough to be able to make it into the now rapidly closing doorway. Her friends around her began to chant as well, encouraging Thomas that he was going to make it and refusing to stop until the boy had slid under the door at the last minute.

Janson's body banged against the metal entryway as he tried to pass his key card through, only to be interrupted by Aris who took a piece of metal lying on the ground and bashed the control panel from the outside. The last thing the survivors saw before darting into the warehouse section of the military base was Janson's ugly mug staring back at them through the small window of the door, and Inka took the chance to press her own face up against the glass and give him two middle fingers as viciously as she could muster them. He merely narrowed his eyes at her in return, glaring as he watched Newt pull her away and the group dart out of sight.


	13. Chase

**Chase**

 **Disclaimer: It its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.**

"This way!" Minho led the team away from the door and through the less finished section of the facility, managing to stay out of sight until the small British girl spotted the main hanger doors.

"Hurry! Over there!" Inka pointed, dashing towards the giant plates of metal and quickly pulling a red hatch that was possibly a lever of some sort.

Her intuition was rewarded as the gigantic doors gave a terrible groan before beginning to slide open, and as soon as the space was available the survivors – now having added Aris to their ranks – burst outside into the dark sandy scorch. The night surrounded them, their path being illuminated only by the lights that the base provided up until the point where they scurried up the first sandy dune they encountered. It was at that point that they could hear a larger alarm whooping amidst the heavy wind, and when Minho took one look back he rapidly informed the group that about a hundred search lights could be seen from the entrance of the base.

"Go, go go! Come on!" Thomas pushed his friends up the hill, urging them to run along faster upon hearing this news.

"We can lose them in the storm!" Inka called out, finally realizing that the tiny pinpricks in her skin were not from her anxiety but from particles of sand whipping around her body.

The group ran for what seemed to be hours but was truly minutes, crouching low when soldiers with flashlights got too close to their position or when they could hear the sound of machinery moving along the sand – their best guess was that Janson had somehow created snowmobiles that were grit-resistant. They tried their best to lose themselves in the storm, knowing that the further they shifted their location from the base the less soldiers would follow. It was not long before Teresa managed to find a buried abandoned building in the sandstorm, and despite protests about the dangers of what could be inside she trudged through a broken skylight and disappeared into the blackness inside. With a desperate groan, Inka quickly followed suit and decided to take her chances with the long haired brunette instead of waiting out the sandstorm in the open. After having seen Inka pass through the window, Newt had no other option but to go after her and the rest of the Gladers followed.

They stumbled down the large sandy hill, ending up in what seemed to be another large warehouse. Minho took the liberty of turning on a flashlight he picked up off of the ground that thankfully had enough battery to illuminate parts of the room as he shone the object around.

"Where the hell are we?" He grunted, looking at piles of cloth and long beams supporting the ceiling of the place.

"We gotta keep moving," Thomas tried to pull the group away, leading them further into the building once he got his head wrapped around the fact that WCKD would soon be on their tail.

"No," Teresa protested, and Inka turned to the girl in the dark when she registered something different in her voice. "Thomas, stop! Tell me what's going on."

The boy turned around at her order, finding himself shocked that such a tone came out of her mouth. Whatever Janson had warned them about – cranks – was likely not a lie, especially since the soldiers had been shooting at something so vehemently in the dark upon the day of their arrival. They needed to keep moving, but Thomas had already begun to explain to Teresa what was going on.

"It's WCKD," He shook his head at the extreme disappointment of the fact that he had been fooled again. "It was always WCKD; they lied to us when they rescued us. Me and Aris – we found bodies, like I said." Thomas looked at Minho for validation and then around the group, who nodded before he repeated his account of what he had seen with Aris to Teresa. "Not alive, but not dead – they had a bunch of tubes coming out of them like they were being drained. There's something inside of us that WCKD wants," Thomas continued, watching as Teresa's face molded into one of horror. "Something in our blood – we need to get as far away from them as possible."

There was a large pause as the survivors looked around at each other, trying to decide what to do seeing as Teresa had been filled in and obviously wasn't making any move to go back to the terrible facility they had just rescued her from. Newt took a moment to look over at Inka, who had her jaw clenched tightly and placed her hands on her hips in thought. She met his eyes steadily, sharing a gaze that translated into what they had established as being 'comply' or 'lay low'. So, with a nod of his head, Newt agreed with Thomas.

"Okay," He spoke up, looking around at the rest of his friends. "What's the plan? You have a plan, right?"

"Yeah..." Thomas muttered, seemingly coming up with no answers.

"We followed you out here..." Newt frowned, disbelief coating his features as he realized that Thomas most likely had no idea what he was doing. "And now you're saying you don't know where we're going or what we're doing?!"

Thomas did not respond, and Newt nearly grunted in frustration before raising a hand to his forehead to calm himself. The last thing he wanted was to lose control and be rude towards his friend, even though he was upset at Thomas for not even figuring out if there was a safe spot nearby. He knew that being away from WCKD or any branch of the company was better than nothing, but he did not want to risk his life or any of his friends lives wandering around in the desert area with no food and plagued creatures.

"Wait..." Aris spoke up from his spot beside Minho, voice growing with every word. "Janson said something about people hiding in the mountains; some kind of resistance or army."

"The Right Arm," Thomas nodded, remembering the conversation between Paige and Janson that they had witnessed. "If they're really against WCKD they can help us."

"'People'," Newt quoted disbelievingly, still miffed that this was Thomas's best option. "'In the mountains'? Mountain people – that's your plan?"

"Hey," Inka nudged the British boy, a small frown etched on her face as she looked between him and Thomas. "It's our best shot."

Newt sighed, shaking his head slightly as he looked down at her and then up at Thomas before nodding slightly. It was then that Winston interrupted them, having shined his light somewhere down the hallway only to discover human foot prints.

"Someone's been down here guys," He gulped, and the group followed his lead as he took several tentative steps forward.

Whatever sort of warehouse they had reached looked to be in a state stopped in time, chilled by the freezing temperatures that the desert reached overnight. Broken glass and machinery lay around the area, causing the survivors to watch their step as they realized that sharp objects could have been buried in the sand that coated the ground. It was not soon before they reached a sort of garage door, and upon shining his flashlight through the small panes on it Minho's eyebrows rose. Aside from the medical equipment that was strewn around, there looked to be gallon water jugs and wires strewn about. Clothing lay on the ground in piles, leaving him to wonder if someone has hastily abandoned the place when WCKD had discovered them.

"In here," Minho patted his hand against the garage door to indicate his find, prompting Newt and Thomas to move forward. "Open it up."

The three managed to lift the large apparatus rather easily, opening up the area to the other survivors who quickly branched off to look around the area. There were glass jars, tubes and what looked to be a stethoscope sitting on one desk, whilst another held backpacks piled high. The lumps of clothing were soon reached by Minho and Aris, who frowned down at the different colors of fabric. Whoever had been here had seemingly hunkered down for a fair bit of time, considering how much effort they had gone through to collect and utilize all of the objects in the room.

"Looks like people lived here..." Minho picked up an article of clothing and shook the sand off of it, inspecting it more closely when Frypan turned on a small lantern.

"And where are those lovely people now?" Newt swallowed his fears, looking around for Inka who he had lost during his curious exploration of the room. It seemed that she had been blocking the incident with Janson out of her head, as she tried her best not to think about those moments when she knew she needed to focus solely on survival. Newt was familiar with this tactic, as constantly being on the run allowed him an ongoing distraction from the demons in his own head, but he knew it was not the healthiest coping mechanism and that the entire group was stressed.

"Pack some of this stuff on," Thomas began to dress himself in the warmer clothing immediately, ignoring Newt's question and successfully distracting the boy. Thomas recognizing the value in this pit stop and was taking advantage of it, so Newt followed his lead. "Anything you think you might need."

As soon as Minho had donned himself in his own jacket, Thomas addressed the whole team.

"We'll split up – see what else we can find and meet back here, ok?" The two nodded at each other before beginning to back away from the group who was seemingly on board with this plan.

"Thomas," It was then that Inka appeared, tossing one of the many flashlights she had found towards the boy and watching him dart off alongside her ex-running partner after a nod of thanks.

Inka passed the rest of the flashlights out among survivors before looking towards the pile of clothing herself. Her tank did little to protect her against the sand or cold, prompting her to sigh out in frustration upon realization that the pile of clothing on the ground was all male oriented. Her figure was small – too small to be clad in oversized clothing without being in discomfort – so she ceased her actions and instead turned towards the backpacks that Newt was rummaging through. She did not have to look for more than ten seconds before he threw one that he had deduced she could carry and began to look through it furiously, finding medical supplies, water sacs and what felt like an army knife. Neither of them had to ask what the rush was, as they knew just as well as Frypan and Winston – who were combing the room for perishables – that it was likely they would be on the run soon anyway. Teresa seemed to be caught in a daze however, her flashlight disappearing and reappearing periodically as she checked each and every smaller room that the large space branched off into. The smaller sections revealed mattresses and books, which indicated a community larger that what they had originally expected and made Teresa shiver for a reason she could not riddle out.

Suddenly, when faced with what seemed to be a human face out of the dark, the lone girl gasped in horror. It took her several seconds before she realized that it was a mannequin coated in black graffiti, but the other survivors' heads had already turned in her direction.

"Are you alright?" Inka called out in concern, having ceased her movements upon hearing the other girl's frightened noise.

"Fine," Teresa called out seconds later, slightly shaken. "I found women's clothes!"

Inka quickly gave Newt a glance as if to ask if he was okay with her leaving his side temporarily to go change, waiting until he nodded once before using his shoulder as leverage to boost herself off the ground and join Teresa. He waited until she had disappeared behind the wall before letting out a breath, not expecting her touch to have had such an effect on him.

As Winston had taken to exploring the medical equipment left behind in the room, Newt and Frypan took the time to check each canister they found laying around for water. It was not long before faraway rummaging was heard, prompting Newt to look in the direction that Inka and Teresa had disappeared towards. What greeted him besides the girls' shadowy forms was the sight of pale arms – ones that he could distinguish were Inka's based on the thinness of them – removing her tank and searching the table for something her size. He could spot her shoulders and some of her front as she turned to the side as well as her distinct curves, making a slight blush rise in his cheeks.

It took Newt a few seconds to realize what Frypan was staring towards the two as well, but before he let his annoyance bubble over the British boy took two fingers and placed them on his friends cheek to redirect his gaze away from the sight.

"What?" Frypan muttered cheekily in defense, as if it was a given that he was to stare at the women. "You were starin' too – we saw 'em in the showers anyway."

Newt simply let the smirk overwhelm his face, half because of the fact that he knew exactly what Frypan was talking about and half because he hadn't let his friend continue staring. The ex-second in command however, did steal another several glances towards Inka's figure enough to remain respectful, failing to control a small shiver that ran through him when he heard her sigh of comfort as she slipped on a new top. The long sleeved shirt clung to her frame, only covered up by a sweater she chose to go along with it seconds later.

"Hypocrite," Frypan murmured from his spot in front of Newt, making the British boy sheepishly redirect his attention back towards the water canisters. "You like her, don't you?"

Newt nearly choked on his own spit, as little as there was in his parched mouth, before looking towards Frypan in disbelief at the fact that his friend had caught such a detail.

"Slim it," He hissed venomously, sensing that the girls were on their way back. Frypan merely grinned in return, eyeing an oblivious Inka as she plopped back down in her spot beside Newt to resume checking packs and not missing the way Newt's eyes roamed over her new top half one more time before the British boy quietly cleared his throat.

None of the group noticed how Teresa stopped to look at a photo she had found on the ground, nor bothered to listen as she mumbled something incoherent. Instead, after having finished scourging the room for promising supplies and making sure that they were all donned in clothing that fit them they reconvened. At this point neither Thomas nor Minho had returned and they were growing unsure of what steps to take.

Then as if some superior being had responded to their needs, there was a large humming sound and about a dozen lights flickered on at once.

Inka squinted at the brightness, trying to refocuses her pupils as they grew used to the light, and grabbed her pack before standing up. The room that they had grown used to in the dark was not much different illuminated, besides the fact that they could see the ghastly blue color of the walls that was looking rather chipped. The rest of the remaining group – several of their visions still adjusting to the light – stood as well, figuring that they would grab two extra packs filled with supplies for their friends and try to find out where they had gone in the warehouse. They ventured out into the hallway, realizing the sheer size of the building they were in when they caught site of all of the lanterns hung in the hallways. They did not know if the power had come back on it's own or if their friends had managed to do such a thing on their own, but either way they were grateful that they at least had some light.

"HEY!"

The survivors turned abruptly at the sound of Thomas's voice near the end of the hall, not expecting to hear him in such a panicked state and wondering what had happened.

"GET OUT! RUN!" He was screaming, tearing down the hallway with Minho at his side.

"Shit, shit!" Newt's mouth fell open in horror as he caught site of the dozen mangled figures chasing after their friends, and he readied himself for an attack. Inka could not see what they were running from either, only managing to latch onto the screeches and yelps from the stumbling creatures. Thomas and Minho quickly reached the group, everyone now picking up the pace as fast as they could to escape whatever was coming after them. The slobbering monsters looked like humans, although it was obvious that they were not friendly nor willing to cooperate. No one could get a good look at them, but it sounded like the creatures were in some kind of pain as occasionally one of them would let out an excruciating howl.

"What the hell are those things?!" Inka cried out, leading the group towards an escalator as she tried to contain the fear in her adrenaline-fueled heart.

"We don't know!" Thomas shouted out as the group stumbled up the metal steps. "Just keep going!"

The survivors rounded the corner only to find one of the creatures right in their faces, slobbering and grunting in all it's glory. Several of them could only blanch or retch in disgust at the veins on it's face, puffy and oozing in slime. It's mouth seemed to expel blood at a steady rate, cascading down its chin and down onto it's front like a waterfall as it screamed at the group. The ex-Gladers tried to back away, only to remember that the larger group of monsters was stumbling up the escalator after them, and Aris decided to take a plunge to try and immobilize one of the monsters.

"Aris!" Newt tried to stop the skinny boy as he raised a bat he had found strewn on the ground to the creature, but Aris took the opportunity and lunged towards the sick humanoid only to strike it across the face just in time. The tactic worked temporarily, and the creature seemingly fell limp for the time being.

"GO, GO!" Inka tugged the boy back milliseconds later, shoving him up the next escalator as she realized that more creatures were closing in. Newt assisted, trying to get everyone up the metal steps before they were mauled.

Their frantic efforts were not in vain, although Teresa managed to get her ankle caught by one of the creatures and it took Thomas's firm boot implanted against the creature's face to release it's hold on her. The boy then grabbed a hold of Teresa and pulled her up the escalator himself, the two being the last of the group to reach the third level of the warehouse. Then it was up another escalator, deftly avoiding another group of three creatures waiting for them several meters away. The survivors finally stumbled onto the final platform, yelling for each other to hurry up and pushing each other along the wide corridor flanked by two glass walls that eventually turned into railings.

"We gotta find a way out of here!" Frypan shouted, sprinting alongside Minho who was scanning the corridor for exits as much as possible whilst running.

Out of nowhere, one of the glass walls beside Newt exploded and he found himself trapped under one of the writhing beasts. The British boy did all he could to keep the monstrosity from eating him alive, looking up in horror at the bloody face that exuded pus and dead veins. Skin hung off of it's head in scraps, the scalp clearly visible where he was certain he could see large clots of blood. He struggled as his friends shouted for him, the second-long ordeal feeling like minutes as grappled with the beast and placed an arm on it's neck to prevent any harm from coming to himself.

"Newt!" He vaguely recognized Inka's furious cry before her tiny form barreled into the creature, tackling it and successfully pushing it off of him until it smashed into the glass and went flying over the edge.

The two grabbed each other for support as they stood and shot each other wild looks, disbelieving that such an event had just occurred and instead of speaking merely pushed each other along once more. They shared no words with the group and focused on sprinting, now in tune even more with their surroundings and each other after such a dramatic incident. They paid no heed to the survivor's cries of question, and Newt only managed to shout out that he was unharmed before Minho found a door and was shoving everyone through it.

"Where are we going?!" Winston cried out, stomach clenching at the sight of the tiny corridor that was lined with bricks.

No one bothered to answer his question as none of them knew the answer, but upon spotting the first door on the left hand side of the hallway Inka lunged for the knob. If it was an exit it would have been a miracle – but she was not expecting any after the events thus far.

"Doors not open!" She grunted, struggling with the knob and not even waiting until Minho had tried to open it himself before she was already sprinting further down the hallway.

"Keeping moving!" Teresa followed her actions, witnessing Newt follow Inka's lead as soon as the small British girl took the first steps forward.

The group soon realized that the last set of doors on the left was a dead end, and with the creatures rapidly filling the hallway behind them they had little time to open the doors. Thomas tried at first, throwing his whole body weight against them before grunting in pain and letting Frypan have a turn. Winston quickly scrambled through his bag, remembering the distinct weapon that he had found in his pack and loading it with trembling fingers as he faced the monsters barreling down the corridor towards his friends.

"I'll hold them off!" He shouted, raising the pistol towards the beasts and firing without warning.

The group tensed at the sound of the gun but quickly refocused, shouting for each other to get the seemingly locked door open as fast as possible whilst Thomas, Minho, Newt and Frypan took turns shoving their bodies against it. It took a good several seconds, but when Frypan got a running start the hinge broke and the door went flying open to allow the eight survivors to try and stream through it. They almost succeeded, but at the last minute Winston was tackled down to the ground by a beast and trapped in between the almost closed door and the pile of creatures on the other side. He cried out in pain as he felt their sharpened fingers tear gashes into his stomach, holding onto Frypan who was trying to pull him into the safety of the stairwell.

"PULL!" Thomas screamed as he and Minho held the door shut as best they could.

Frypan gave one more heave before Winston's form finally detached itself from the creature's prying hands, and Newt assisted in carrying him towards the end of another long corridor. It was then, while Winston tried his best to hold onto his two friends as strong as he could, that Newt realized being on the run was all he had ever known. Whether it was from his own thoughts, a particularly nasty government organization or creatures they did not even know the name of, a life on the go was clearly in order. Newt's adrenaline fruitfully blocked any tears that tried to make their way out of his system, trying his best to focus on exerting every single ounce of metal and physical power on carrying Winston to safety and making sure each member of the team was behind them.

Thomas and Minho were soon on the group's heels, trying their best to back up the group while Inka led them. It was not long before she spotted moonlight, causing her to push towards the area and nearly tripping over her own feet when she caught sight of the hill of cars in front of her. The ruined machinery, piled one on top of the other, was only visible by the hand of the night sky and caused Inka to let out a sharp cry when the rest of the group quickly approached.

"Careful!" She began to establish the safest way down the pile, helping her friends as they tried to make their way to the bottom – where they could spot solid ground – as fast as possible. "Come on, over here!"

The survivors followed her, staying as silent as possible in their movements as they knew that this was their only chance of escape from the vile creatures tearing after them. Their terrible screeching as the beasts failed in spotting the survivors rang clear through the night air, making the knots in the groups' stomachs tighten as they continued to press on. By crouching low and staying hidden – Winston tried his best to muffle his grunts of pain as Frypan continued to assist him – they managed to reach a cement overhand on ground level that would hopefully remain undetected by the monsters. As the group settled in, the only sounds that remained were their harsh pants and the furious howls of the monsters thirty feet above them. Gradually, as the creatures realized that their prey was gone, the sniffling and disappointed wails faded away and the survivors were left in a petrified silence too afraid to question what had just happened.

Several of them tried to move themselves into more comfortable positions, laying down Winston who Fry had bandaged and required more space. Inka moved from her spot to allow this, whispering for Newt to move over as she planted her small frame beside his. He did not complain, and instead embraced the body warmth that she brought and tried to relax himself. He had been trying to get the horrid image of the creature's slobbering face out of his head, but found that it was impossible and that his heart would not stop beating furiously in his chest. It was as if his body still believed that he was on the run, even though the group was somewhat safe for the night and outside of the horrid compound they had sprinted out of.

"Hey," Inka murmured, her own voice still shaky as she nudged him and made him jump slightly. "It's okay."

"It's really not," He tried to argue, knowing that they were safe for the time being but that danger was going to be around every corner. "This is bad – this is really bad."

"Yeah, it is. But we're safe now," Inka nodded in the dark, knowing that it was difficult for him to see her but performing the action anyway. She had no way of knowing if they were truly safe, and could feel her stomach was still tight with fear, but she knew her efforts would help. "We're gonna make it."

She could tell many of the group were listening to her as well, based on the breathing that was still uneven and definitely not labored whatsoever. She continued to speak to Newt specifically, however, knowing that the whole group would benefit from the words she was whispering to him.

"There's always an answer," She continued, knowing fully well that her group would doubt what she was saying but needed to hear it. "There's always a way out – always something you can do. We'll find it."

Newt did not respond, but because of their proximity she could feel him move slightly as if he was nodding as well. With that, she decided that her spiel was over and that it was best if the group got some rest (awake or not), so she took the lead by planting her head on Newt's shoulder and tried to rid the days events from her head. Most of the group was too shocked and upset about everything to even ask a simple question, so she bet that they would either allow their tiredness to overcome them at some point throughout the night or stay awake mulling over the last twenty four hours in their heads.

The British boy did not protest Inka's move, instead trying to focus on her breathing and the way their bodies were pressed up against each other side by side, realizing that there were many grains of truth in Inka's words and that if anything she was the person who would know what she was talking about when it came to finding a way out. To be trapped and consistently exposed to tests that yielded little results for her and more on WCKD's end would have taught her to appreciate real answers and make her acknowledge that there was always an escape route. Even in her trials – all eight hundred of them, a number which still made Newt shudder – there was always an end point, and in the maze she had been part of the shove that had allowed the Gladers to escape. Even in the scorch she was continuing to push and persevere, somehow blocking out everything that Janson or Paige had said to try and save her friends' lives. Inka was really the only person Newt knew who would be capable of fully respecting answers and realizing the honest truth that there was indeed, always a way out. Always something on the other side; something to strive towards. Even in a hopeless situation there was a way to better it. Newt could already begin to feel his own mentality affected by this, and so with that last somewhat positive note he silently thanked the girl leaning against his frame once more and allowed exhaustion to overcome him.

* * *

"Hey!"

Newt woke with a start as a voice near him could be heard crying out, and he jerked slightly before his eyes opened completely to realize that Thomas had been the culprit of the noise. Realizing that he was still with his group, away from WCKD and not in any immediate danger, he relaxed a tiny portion only to find that he would not be able to move as the tiny British she-bean was still resting on his shoulder. Her breathing was shallow, indicating a heavy sleep, so he chose to look over at Thomas – who had been shooing away a stray crow from their packs – and their surroundings instead of moving another muscle. They seemed to be in a sort of parking garage, as the large winding cement structures around them looked as though they would have once been ramps that allowed cars to travel easily from the four levels they had been sprinting through the night prior.

"Are they gone?" Newt suddenly turned to Thomas, remembering the terrible creatures that his dreams had made him forget about.

"Yeah," Thomas nodded, pulling a hand through his hair. "I think we're safe for now. We should get moving, though."

As each survivor began to rise with a call of their name, Newt reluctantly jostled Inka out of her sleep and reveled in the way her face scrunched up slightly before her eyes blinked open. He was greeted with soft grey irises that regarded him coolly for a moment before her entire body jerked and she grasped onto his collar, seemingly startled by his presence as if she had forgotten the night before.

"Woah!" He nearly jumped back in surprise before grabbing her hands and loosening their hold on him. "Inka, it's me! You're alright – you're safe!"

The small girl let out a large breath before shaking herself out of whatever shock she was in, wide eyes returning to their normal size as soon as she recognized Newt and took the whole scenario in. Several of the group regarded her in mild concern before turning away as she calmed down, leaving the two British teenagers to handle each other.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to...sorry." Inka murmured, eyeing Newt rather awkwardly as he shook the incident off and gazed at the scratch on his cheek. Newt gazed back at her, noticing a fairly large scratch on her collarbone, before he helped her up out of her spot. The girl brushed the dirt off of her forest green cargo pants and retied her combat boots, seeing as the laces had come undone after the last night's events. Newt regarded her carefully, unsure if she had been having a nightmare of sorts or if the reaction had been a stressed result thanks to the harsh situations they had recently gone through.

Both Newt and Inka were quickly distracted however, when Winston let out a pained groan as Frypan helped him up. His bandages were soaked in blood, delaying the group for several seconds while they reapplied the dressings and made sure that an infection was not spreading. For the time being the wound still looked dark and bloody, and had not developed any signs of infection other than some pus near the edges. Teresa, who was donning herself in a long jacket she had brought along, tried not to look when the large scrapes were revealed. As soon as Winston had been patched up to the best of the groups' ability they were on the move again, being led by Thomas who guided them away from the parking lot and away from the building with the ghastly creatures inside. They climbed up several flights of rubble, the concrete underneath their feet becoming more and more sandy as they increased their altitude. They could only hope they were headed in the right direction, seeing as how the ruins around them seemed to repeat themselves every several meters. They climbed further and further up, realizing that they were actually heading towards ground level from their former spot in the dusty overhang.

As soon as survivors reached the top of the hill, there was a moment of frozen silence.

The city around them was completely destroyed. Seeing the scorch from the helicopter was one thing, but being on the ground was another and they could see nothing around them besides crumbled buildings layered in sand. Whatever solar flare had burned the earth and reduced its population so extensively must have been extremely intense, for there was nothing else besides nuclear weaponry or a natural disaster that was capable of doing such damage. The world lay in ruins before the eight youths, a shell of it's former self that they would never experience. Mankind and all of it's work to raise humanity to the highest caliber of achievement it could reach was gone, wiped out by the very sun that was beating on the survivor's backs as they stared towards the broken city ahead of them.

Inka was the one who recovered out of her shock first and took the steps forward to continue moving, causing Newt to follow suit almost immediately and the rest of the survivors to follow them and begin walking through the ruins. The ghost city lay dormant around them, the only noises being their footsteps on the sand and the wind whistling in their ears. It took a good ten minutes of silent walking while the group looked around them in wonder before anyone said anything, and even then the conversation was tense and tentative.

"What the hell happened?" Frypan wondered aloud, clasping the straps on his pack nervously as he turned to walk backwards.

"I don't know," Newt shook his head, squinting as he looked at the highest skyscraper he could find only to be blinded by the sun. "But it doesn't look like anyone has been here for a long time."

"I hope the whole world isn't like this," Aris spoke up for the first time in awhile, clenching his fists as he gazed at the piles of overturned cars and broken down roads around them.

If it was true that the entire planet was destroyed, Inka pondered as she kept up her pace with Teresa at the front of the group, then they would have a bigger fish to fry than WCKD. The ironically named organization was already a fairly large thorn in their sides as it was, but to learn that there were no presidents or police or governments left was another huge problem that they could not tackle on their own. Despite her small speech of encouragement from yesterday, Inka was beginning to realize that they needed help – and a lot more answers than they had originally planned for.

"Whoa - hang on, stop." Thomas suddenly halted his walking, causing the rest of the group to follow suit and swivel around to stare at him. "Do you hear that?"

He pointed to the sky where the survivors stared, almost as if they were expecting to see the answers written in the clouds. Inka tried very hard to listen to the sounds all around her, eyeing Minho uncertainly as a ball of anxiety continued to grow in her stomach. She could hear a humming from faraway, growing closer by the second and sounding more and more threatening as it did so. Newt merely squinted in confusion, his ears only catching onto the howling of the faraway wind tunnels until a certain sound launched Thomas into action.

"Get down!" He suddenly cried, and Inka gasped as soon as she recognized the distinct noise of helicopter blades as well. "Everybody hide, hide! Now!"

The survivors dove under a nearby overpass, Newt reflexively tugging Inka closer to him by grabbing the back of her pack to pull her until she was safely by his side. The action required no thought at all, and he barely took the time to register her small squeak of surprise before the overwhelming sound of giant whirring blades consumed the air above them. It took several seconds until the flying objects came into view, one of the three – two of which were helicopters – being the largest flying piece of machinery the group had ever seen. The basic choppers flanked the giant metal mechanism as it traveled in between the wrecked buildings, no doubt scanning for the escaped test subjects that were apparently so vital to their evil plan.

"Holy hell," Inka muttered as the giant cross-shaped airship and its escorts passed over their hiding spot only to continue travelling across the scorch.

"They're never gonna stop looking for us," Winston muttered almost in defeat, turning towards Thomas who was checking if the area was clear when the sounds of the flying machines had receded into the sky. "Are they?"

He would not receive a spoken answer, but the silence was confirmation enough that his assumption was correct.

"Let's go," Thomas gulped down his fear and led the group out of the small overhang, silently guiding them towards the hulking sandy hill he assumed to be the outskirts of the city. It was protected by another gargantuan pile of rubbish, looking as if it contained various car parts and concrete slabs from buildings that had fallen during the sun flare. Either way, it would be fairly simply to scale and reach the top of the sandy mound. From there, they could try and spot any landmarks from far away and hopefully travel towards them, although Thomas was not expecting the journey to be that easy.

They reached the immense pile of auto mechanical parts in a matter of minutes, helping each other climb on legs that were rapidly losing energy with every step. The only thing that fueled them was the desire to reach safety or at least get to another safe zone, somewhere where they could rest and recover so that Winston would be able to recuperate for the night. Unfortunately the dark was hours away and the survivors still had a ways to go, so they concentrated their efforts on moving at a steady pace upwards instead of thinking about the possibility that they would be stranded in the bare scorch for a night.

"Everyone okay?" Thomas turned to look behind him as the group continued to clamber up the large pile of debris.

"Yeah..." Winston grimaced in pain as he tried to push on, knowing fully well that the constant movement was not helping his injuries. Frypan was there to assist him however, and the two continued to make their way up the makeshift hill.

"Shit!" Inka let out a cry as her foot suddenly slipped, causing her to stumble slightly and fail to grab anything for support.

Newt had grabbed her within seconds, his spot several paces behind her allowing him to move fast and stop the small girl's falling movements. He was often surprised by his own strength, expecting himself to be much weaker than what he actually was as he had spent so long being deprived of basic nutrients and proteins that his muscle tone must have taken significant loss. Yet, his strength seemed to remain and exceed his expectations as he halted Inka's fall, letting her full weight rest on him for a moment before he helped her back into a safe position.

"Thank you," She shot him a grateful look and the first smile he had seen for a long time, causing him to return it slightly before they continued on their way.

Ignoring any bruises or cuts that they received on the way down the other side of the giant pile of rubbish – Newt had to stop Inka once more from falling and Frypan basically carried Winston the entire way – the team silently worked their way past the obstacles that lay in their way. They soon reached the last colossal dune, each of them panting as they exerted the proper amount of effort to scale the vast sandy slope.

"Just a little further..." Thomas willed himself and pushed on the rest of the group as they finally reached the highest point of the dune.

"Mountains!" Minho exclaimed as they reached the group shielded their eyes from the sun, spotting the faraway hills incredulously. Ahead of the survivors lay a few more scattered ruins buried in sand, but the area seemed significantly easier to navigate than the path they had just taken.

"That's gotta be it," Thomas nodded towards the large distant structures that were slightly tainted green. "That's where we're headed."

"That's a long way off," Newt commented, his heart sinking slightly when he saw the distance. It seemed as though it would take them several days to reach that point, and he was unsure if the members could take that sort of journey.

"So we better get moving then, no?" Inka piped up, nudging Newt again as if to remind him to stay positive and smiling slightly when he gave her a nod after a second or two. The group seemed to agree with her comment and began to take steps down the slope heading forwards, but before any of them could make another move Winston toppled over with a final groan.

"Winston!" Thomas was on the boy in seconds, the rest of the group following as they watched him wheeze and writhe slightly on the ground. "Winston? Winston!"

"What do we do?!" Teresa tried to hold his head up to no avail, and the injured boy continued to jerk around whilst seemingly losing consciousness.

Thomas stood in a huff, eyes searching around him for anything versatile that they could use to help carry the boy. It was clear that he would not be able to walk, so he quickly took off his pack and began to rip one of the blankets inside, tying it around three stray pipes he found laying on the ground to build a makeshift stretcher. The rest of the group helped load Winston onto the object as soon as it was ready, agreeing that they would take turns dragging the stretcher across the desert to bear the burden.

The survivors walked for what seemed to be hours, up and down dunes that never ended and underneath destroyed bridges that threatened to crumble with every howl of wind. At one point, Inka grew so frustrated at the never ending sand bars that she grasped the makeshift stretcher herself and gave Minho's strength a run for it's money as they carried Winston together. It was at this point that Newt was able to make out the distinct muscles on her arms – as small as they were – having gathered from her time in the Glade and her endless efforts of strength in the fake trials. She was still underweight, but Inka was not weak by any means.

Newt was distracted when the team was faced with another slope of sand, however, and refocused his efforts on helping to carry the injured ex-slicer along with Thomas, Frypan and Aris. Inka carried the stretcher, useless for the downhill passages until they reached the bottom of the next dune. It was then that the sand whirling around them picked up the pace, forcing each survivor to pull out the scarves they had salvaged from the abandoned warehouse to protect their faces. At that point Thomas cried out that it was time to find shelter until the wild wind passed, and the group of eight stopped at a small gathering of cement blocks that created a blockade strong enough to protect them from the strong winds.

They lay Winston down as gently as possible before dropping their packs when they had reached the designated location, taking advantage of the rest and pulling out canteens of water that they had brought along to refuel. Several shrugged off articles of clothing, placing them in their bags and realizing just how much sweat had accumulated on their bodies despite the storm of air around them. Inka took this opportunity to relieve herself along with Teresa, both of them walking behind a block separate from the rest of the group and also taking the time to change into lighter clothing. Inka replaced her top and sweater with the black tank she had originally been given back at Janson's base, grateful that she had brought it along as the sunlight beat down on her shoulders. If the lack of food and water over gradual time did not kill them, the sun certainly would.

When both of them made their way back towards the group Thomas had separated himself to go stare off into the distance – mumbling something about scouting and how he wanted to plan out their next route – while Teresa sat herself down next to Winston and watched him wheeze and shudder in pain. Inka, on the other hand, took the time to place a rolled up blanket underneath the injured boy's head before sitting down across from Frypan, Newt and Minho who were distributing water amongst those who required it. She let out a snort as Frypan emptied all the sand out of his shoe in one go, drawing the attention of Newt who let a smirk graze over his face at the sight of his friend clearly disgruntled by the obstacle that was the desert. The four took drinks from Minho's canteen, saving their own for when the oriental boy's had run out. Sharing was a necessity in this sort of emergency, which meant that rations such as water needed to be handled in cycles; each survivor would need to divide their own portion to guarantee each other's survival.

Several minutes passed as the group waited for the storm to calm, Teresa now having left the enclosure to go join Thomas who was standing a good twenty meters away on his own and speaking to him in tones that the other survivors could not hear. Aris had also separated himself, climbing up on a rock nearby and enjoying the cool that the cement provided. After a good minute of the two talking, Newt's curiosity overcame him and he stood up to call after the two and inquire as to how much longer it would take them to reach the mountains. He was still hesitant about the 'mountain people' plan, but figured that if Janson himself had mentioned it the possibility of the rumor being true was fairly large.

"Just a little bit further!" Thomas called, assuring the group awaiting an answer.

"That's not very convincing..." Newt grumbled seconds later, turning away from Thomas and Teresa and instead looked towards Inka, who was staring towards the two with her eyes narrowed. Newt looked back at the duo as well after taking another drink from Minho's canteen, watching as Thomas spared another rather upset glance back their way. Although Newt would not realize it, he only had a moment of time to think about what they were speaking of.

Out of nowhere there was a large bang, and it only took the entire group a millisecond of panic to realize that a gun had been shot.


	14. Fire, fire

**Fire, fire**

 **Disclaimer: It its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.**

 **Additionally, I also do not own the works of J.R.R Tolkien, Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, Barrie M. Osborn, Tim Sanders, New Line Cinema, Saul Zaentz Film Co., and WingNut Films (I have used a reference to the films/books).**

The distinct noise of a bullet being fired from a pistol caused each survivor to jump about a foot in the air. Inka let out the highest screech Newt had ever heard, rendering him momentarily disorientated while he tried to find the source of the noise that had been in such close proximity.

"Winston!" Frypan quickly wrestled the boy down, realizing that he had somehow snagged the gun from his pack and proceeded to try and turn it on himself. Luckily his weak fingers had mishandled the weapon, causing it to fire accidentally before he could turn it on himself. "Give me that!"

"What are you doing?!" Newt allowed his tone to become hostile, bewildered as to what his friend could have been thinking.

"What the hell happened!?" Thomas had sprinted onto the scene with Teresa, both of them looking even more confused and panicked as they had during their entire time knowing the Gladers.

"I don't know!" Frypan grasped the metal object in his hands, looking extremely shaken and on the verge of tears as Winston writhed in pain on the ground in front of the group. "He just woke up and grabbed the gun! He tried to -"

Frypan was interrupted as Winston promptly vomited blood on the yellow sand beside his stretcher, weak arms still reaching towards the ex-cook's hand holding the gun. Thomas was by the boy's side in seconds, questioning if he was alright and what he could do to help. None of the survivors knew how to assist them at the moment, simply staring on in shock and wondering why Winston had tried to off himself so suddenly without warning. The boy in question flopped down onto the sand, breathing having grown shallow and labored after he finished puking.

"It's growing...inside me," He wheezed, lifting up his shirt and revealing the horrid scratch marks that had grown up his stomach. The wound looked purple as it pulsated almost inhumanly, as if something was alive inside of the boy. This made the group cover their mouths in horror, suddenly acknowledging that the creatures that had chased after them were not only bloodthirsty but infectious as well. "I'm not gonna make it."

The survivors looked around at each other trying to figure a loophole to the problem, but after several seconds realizing that there was no way around it. If the infection spread Winston would soon turn into one of the violent beasts that had so clearly wanted the survivors dead, and they knew that they could not turn in their friend to the same crazed fate.

"Please..." Winston wheezed, holding his hand out towards the Frypan one last time. "P-please don't let me turn into one of t-those things."

Frypan looked down at the gun heartbrokenly, the decision killing him on the inside as he knew that the heavy weight barring down on his shoulders required him to make the choice. To hand off the weapon responsible for killing his best friend was an action he never wanted to take in his life, and here he was being forced into it. He began to shake his head, tears pooling in his eyes as the weight of the gun grew heavier and heavier in his hand. That was, until the weapon left his grasp and a figure slowly passed by him.

The white shirt revealed the body to be that of Newt's, the gun heavy in his hand as he made his way over to Winston. Despite Thomas's words of protest and the groups horrified expressions, Newt took the steps over to his friend's body and laid the gun on his chest as a final show of respect.

"Thank you," Winston coughed with all the strength he had left, sharing a nod with the ex-second in command who he had worked both under and alongside so valiantly. "Now – get out of here. Please."

With one glance at his crippled expression Newt knew he could not look away, and knew that the boy was speaking of the wretched sand tomb they were walking through. He wanted them to not only escape WCKD and the current cluster of cement they had taken shelter under but also the world in it's decayed state – Winston wanted them to solve the puzzle and build new lives for themselves in whatever green was left. So, Newt slowly backed away and receded into the group of friends, not being able to spare one more look at the slowly dying boy.

It was Frypan who made his way over to Winston next, crouching next to him as his heart fell to his stomach in dread. There were no words to describe the feeling that was coursing through him at the moment, but he put on a brave face for the boy in front of him.

"You were my best friend," Frypan tried to contain himself as best as possible as he clutched his companion's shoulders. "You were the bravest – the best. You'll always be."

Winston clasped Frypan's wrist as he mouthed the boy's real name, and the two shared one more meaningful, loaded glance before the African-American youth distanced himself. The next to say their goodbyes was Inka, who tore herself away from her position next to Newt and took six heavy steps – feeling as though there were a hundred tons of weight sitting atop her shoulders – to make her way over to Winston's sick form.

"Winston," Inka kneeled down next to the boy with the rest of the group watching, completely shell-shocked that they were going to lose yet another companion on their quest to find answers. Her face scrunched up as she tried not to let tears escape her eyes, scars wrinkling as well on her otherwise smooth face. "The journey doesn't end here."

"For me," Winston rasped, coughing out more blood and spitting it to the side as he looked over her marred face. "It does."

"No," Inka assured, grasping his hand that held the gun in it tightly as she let a few stray tears escape her body. "No – death is just another path of life. We all have to take it at one point or another. You have done great things."

"I'm scared," The boy spluttered, mouth quivering as he choked back a sob. "I don't want to die."

"You'll see wonders, Winston," Inka tried to pass on any light she had left in her eyes to his, hoping that he would listen to her words of comfort in his final moments. Even though she had no idea what death was like and was terrified of the prospect herself, she tried to imagine a marvelous place where the poisons of the true world could never reach. "White shores, and a vast green country under a swift, peaceful sunrise. Colors like you wouldn't imagine – and endless time where each hour is unique and precious."

"R-really?" Winston panted slightly, paying more attention to her words now as he grew slightly less discouraged.

Inka merely nodded, letting more tears flow freely as she gave the boy's hand one last squeeze. "You'll find your way, Winston – I promise. This is not your end."

The boy nodded slightly, thanking her silently as she backed away into Newt's arms and the group began to collect their things. It was an unspoken declaration that Winston had made, deciding that he did not want his friends to witness his cessation. It was too painful to watch him decay as it was, and Winston knew that his friends had said their goodbyes the best way they could. His loss would affect them, but if they did not have an image to go alongside it it would take some of the weight off of his death. It was the only thing Winston could do to ease their passage in the future.

"It's okay," Winston hacked out another blood clot, assuring Thomas after the rest of the group had left the cement cluster. The boy who had been a leading figure thus far suddenly felt very unsure of what to do as he stared down at the sick boy.

"I'm sorry – I'm so sorry..." Thomas's tears welled in his eyes as he tried to remain strong for the boy in front of him who had seemingly accepting his fate. Thomas turned to leave, the weight of the disappointment after not being able to save another one of his friend's lives heavy in his stomach.

"Thomas," The boy on the ground called, feeling his body rapidly ceasing to function normally and choosing to ask one final favor of his friend. "Take care of them."

All that Thomas was capable of doing in the moment was nodding as he turned his back one final time to Winston, swallowing his urge to weep and instead following Frypan's figure that was walking sullenly across the tip of the next dune. The group marched in a single filed silence, several meters between each of them as they each mourned the loss of Winston separately.

A singular gunshot rang through the air about a minute later, causing the row of seven to stop and stare back at the stone blocks they had left behind before slowly continuing on their way.

 _Death is not the end,_ Inka reminded herself as she slammed her eyes shut and squeezed them tight, curling her hands into small fists. She forced her feet to keep on moving, despite the wail that threatened to tear its way out of her throat. The survivors continued to trudge along in a glum silence, the burden of death weighing them down despite not having witnessed Winston perform the task of suicide. For hours they traveled along more sandy ridges, mountains growing closer and closer with every hour that passed by until the hills finally flattened out and the surface they walked on was no longer covered in rubble. After several more hours, night finally fell and they were forced to prioritize looking for shelter. Minho silently led them towards a large blob of a structure, only realizing that it was ship after travelling closer to it.

The giant naval vessel, lying on its side as if it had completely given up itself, was an indication that the large flat plain they were walking across had once been a massive body of water. None of the survivors commented on this, their curious spirits remaining significantly dampened by the fact that their numbers had now been reduced to seven. The group took shelter against the ship's starboard side, seeing as it blocked most of the wind raging their way and allowed them shelter enough to build a campfire by it's wall. Aris ventured into the ship several times to retrieve wood, and after producing the final logs necessary for fueling the campfire until the morning he sat down in between Minho and Newt. At some point everyone had cracked out the blankets out of their packs, grateful that they had remembered to grab everything they needed before leaving the compound full of monsters.

"I thought we were supposed to be immune," Minho broke the silence, twiddling his knife around in his fingers as he stared into the fire with a clenched jaw. His question ruffled the feathers of his friends sitting around him as they shifted uncomfortably, though few of them redirected their gaze to look towards him.

"Not all of us," Teresa clarified, eyes connecting with Thomas' across the fire. Neither of them mentioned what their conversation had consisted of before Winston's untimely end, as they had silently agreed not to mention that Teresa had gotten her memories back and was inclined to head back to WCKD's base for a reason Thomas had not been able to fish out of her.

"If Winston was affected we should assume the rest of us can too," Newt spoke up from his place beside Inka. The small girl was huddled up in her blanket, and Newt had spared his own to drape over her as well when he realized that her form was still trembling. Despite slapping on all the clothes she had worn and the two blankets coating her body she remained shivering, teeth clattering being the only noise in the background besides the crackling fire. The British boy had simply draped an arm around her after he noticed this, noticing that her shivering decreased significantly after he sat closer to the girl.

"I never thought I'd say it," Frypan muttered, firelight illuminating his face where a single tear streak was visible. "But I miss the Glade."

With that final loaded comment something inside Thomas cracked, and he stood up silently only to make his way over to a log a ways away from the campfire. None of the group went after him at first, but after several seconds of staring around at his friends' faces Newt murmured to Inka that he would return after a moment and got up to walk over to where Thomas sat.

The two boys shared a look as soon as Newt placed himself on the ground near his friend, and the ex-second in command could spot Thomas' fingers swiveling Chuck's figurine in his hand. It was clear at this point that Thomas was feeling extreme guilt after having lead all of the group outside of the Glade only to have more death and destruction rain down upon them, so Newt decided he needed to give his friend a speech very reminiscent of what he thought Inka would have had to say. He did not want Thomas thinking that their friends believed the Glade was better than the scorch, no matter what sort of comments the ex-cook made.

"You haven't slept a wink since we left the maze, have you?" He asked, having noticed that Thomas had been out patrolling the vents with Aris whilst back at the base and too paranoid the night prior to get any shut-eye. When his friend did nothing but grimace and tighten his hold on Chuck's tiny statue, Newt knew he was correct and pressed on. "Listen, Frypan was just letting off steam..."

"He's right though," Thomas sighed sadly, finally caving into the conversation. "I'm the reason we're stuck out here."

"No," Newt shook his head, large brown eyes contradicting Thomas's misplaced feelings. "You're the reason we're _free_ ," He emphasized the word, looking back towards the fireplace and towards Inka who would have agreed with him one hundred percent. "They others may have their doubts and that's fine – but they would follow you anywhere."

"They follow you too," Thomas shrugged, pursing his lips in thought. He had definitely acknowledged the way that Newt's comments had an effect on the team's mentality towards things, and when Newt suggested a plan of action his friends responded to it very well.

"Ah," Newt shrugged the comment off, staring out into the black desert as he made a face. "It's different with me though – you know it is. We all have our roles to play."

"Inka would follow you anywhere," Thomas commented truthfully, feeling bold and watching as the blush rose in Newt's cheeks. "That's not different."

"Well," The British boy responded shakily, unsure of where his next statement was going until he blurted it out and tried to revert the subject back to it's original topic. "Hell - I'd follow her too. I'd follow any of you – I'm following you, aren't I?"

"I don't even know where we're going," Thomas admitted almost guiltily, looking towards his friend as he shook his head. "We're lost."

"We've been lost before," Newt pointed out, raising a brow at his friends antics. Was Thomas really growing discouraged after getting this far? They had a general goal; to reach the mountains. Even if the 'mountain people' plan was the most ridiculous thing Newt had ever heard, if he had learned anything from Inka it was that there was always an answer. If the 'mountain people' plan was the only lead they had for an answer other than WCKD, it was best they took that bait. Thomas could not lose hope at this point – he needed to keep pushing.

"Not like this..." Thomas continued, shaking his head once more.

"There is a place for us out there somewhere," Newt's brain formulated the words as if Inka had crept into his head and shaped the sentence for him, and for some reason he was completely overjoyed with the fact that the tiny girl had been able to influence him so strongly. "And I don't know where it is, but I do know that an awful lot of our friends have died for us to get this far," He looked towards the figurine that Thomas still held in his hands as he spoke, heart wrenching as he thought of all the losses they had bared witness to thus far along their journey. "And so we can't give up – _you_ can't give up. I won't let you."

Thomas looked at Newt the same way Inka had looked at the boy when she had spoken of the 'thing' in his eyes, revealing the truth about what had happened a year ago in the Glade when the British boy had given up himself. He knew the consequences of that sort of mental blockade, and was trying to save all of his friends from the same fate. It was why Newt favored Inka so highly and loved her way of thinking so much; she had rejuvenated every fiber of being inside of him that he had felt when he had been a runner. The knowledge that there was always a way out and that they could find it if they did not give up was what had kept him alive for the first two years, and when he had lost that the spark inside of him had died. The minute Inka had sprinted out of that box right towards the walls Newt had known that they had a troublesome package on their hands, but he had not expected her to ignite such a chain of events – especially not in his own head. This revelation caused the British boy to smile towards Thomas, patting him on the back as a jolt of positivity flowed through him.

"Get some sleep, yeah?" Newt gave his friend one last smirk before heading back towards the fire, seeing as how most of the survivors were getting ready to sleep.

It wasn't until he approached his old spot near the firepit that he realized a certain British girl had gone missing, and stopped right in his tracks before opening his mouth to ask his friends – who were all looking towards him with an air of expectancy – where she had gone.

"Inside," Minho looked up at him and motioned towards the ship's hull before the question could even fly out of Newt's mouth.

The British boy nodded in thanks and traveled towards the ripped opening in the ship's side, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness before he began to look around for Inka's form. He saw her boots peeking out from behind what seemed to be a door, so he ventured towards it and slowly opened the wooden flap with one hand before speaking.

"Not you too?" Newt stuck his head inside the compartment, seeing her form sitting several feet away on a large hunk of metal he assumed had been part of an engine at one point.

"Sorry," Inka apologized through chattering teeth before he could even ask what was wrong, as she felt guilty for separating herself from the group when Thomas had already done so. "I just wanted to think."

"In the dark?" Newt questioned, not expecting an answer as he sat down beside her only to wrap one arm around her again and begin to rub her shivering form. "What were you thinking about?"

"Everything was so simple a month ago," Inka held her head in her hands, elbows leaning against her knees as she tried to wrap her head around the whole situation that they had been dumped in. "I'm debating whether or not I would have rather lived my life in ignorance in that green box rather than come out here and face the real world."

"Well," Newt began, tackling one problem at a time. "It wasn't really that simple, was it? You came up and then Thomas and Teresa came up and it was just one big cluster fuck and a half while we were trying to get out of there." His wording caused Inka to let out a huff of laughter before she quieted again, letting him carry on with a small smirk on his face at the fact that he had made her smile. "We figured out that people want to kill us and drain us alive, and that they were watching us the entire time before technically being killed by themselves which means they would have gotten to us eventually..."

Newt trailed off as he realized he was getting caught up in all the things that had gone wrong so far, when instead he needed to be focusing on what had gone right to help drag Inka out of this mood.

"My point is," He drove his point home, hoping that it would plant a seed in her mind. "That box wasn't paradise and you knew that long ago."

"Yeah, and now we've got a grilled planet on our hands," She sighed, running a hand through her choppy hair that had not grown very much in the last several days after their escape from the Glade. "How long before we get cooked too?"

"I agree that the responsibility of handling this problem should not have fallen into our hands," Newt remained positive despite her sarcastic views on the matter, trying to alleviate the spirits of the one person who had managed to repair his broken soul. "But we've got to do what's right. We need help right now – so if the mountain people are all we've got, fine. We'll get to 'em. But at the end of the day we've got to decide whether we want to do what's right or what's easy."

Inka was silent for a moment, biting her lip in thought as she mulled over what Newt was saying to her. It was true that they would be on the run from WCKD for a long time unless they did something about the problem, but for the time being they needed their questions answered, their bodies healed and their minds relaxed. They were in no state to save the world and there was no telling whether or not they would, but if the Right Arm had that sole objective in mind it was up to the survivors to decide whether or not they were going to shy away from the prospect of destroying the torturers who had done horrible things to them thus far or hide like cowards, ignoring the justice that needed to be served.

"Of course we're going to do what's right," She finally sighed, rubbing her forehead in frustration when Newt nodded once as if the option was obvious. "My point still stands true; things were simpler a month ago, but that doesn't mean I would rather be back there than here where I am right now. It's just that I'm sure if we knew the state that things were in out here a lot of us would have hesitated to leave so soon."

"Yeah well," Newt huffed, shaking his head and letting some of his old negativity seep through almost subconsciously. It was then that he realized Inka had a tight hold on him, as her sudden drop in mood took effect on his mind state almost immediately. "Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?"

Grey and brown irises fused once more as the two looked at each other, Inka sighing as she dipped her head to indicate that he had won the small debate. Her hope had not dwindled whatsoever, and her resolution to find answers was still strong, but she was merely debating whether all this loss of life and all of the risk they had put each other through would be worth it in the end. After all, WCKD could have been right around the next corner for all they knew firing real bullets instead of mobile tasers.

"Sorry," Inka shook her head and grimaced, the movement on her face wrinkling her scars. "I didn't mean to bring you down."

"You've no idea how much you've helped." Newt let the words slip out of his mouth before he could stop them, and nearly kicked himself after he realized what he had admitted. Surprisingly however, Inka did not react the way he had suspected her to and instead smiled almost disbelievingly as pink coated her cheeks.

"How so?"

Newt heaved a sigh at her question, not wanting to take her wonderful smile away with what was to come but deciding that it was finally time to tell her what had been hiding in his eyes ever since she had questioned it in the meeting hut back in the Glade. The last thing he wanted to do was dampen her spirits, but it was necessary for her to understand exactly how much she had helped him thus far.

"It starts a while back really," Newt stuttered a bit on his words before urging himself to go onward, knowing that this story was necessary to get off his chest. "Like I told you, I remember being dumped in the Glade with a bunch of boys, a lot of which died because it was utter chaos for the first year. People were running into the maze left and right – myself included – or jumping into the box to try and see if we could find a way out. We would try all day and we lost a lot of boys to desperation. When Alby took over after Nick and George there was finally some control, and because I'd survived he made me a runner."

At this point he stopped the tale temporarily, gauging Inka's reaction and watching how she recoiled slightly in bewilderment. She looked as though she had a fair bit of questions to ask, but Newt stopped her before the words could even bubble out of her throat.

"Then when boys started coming up monthly he started handing out roles, you know?" He continued, wanting to get the ordeal over with so that the worst part would pass. "Establishing order and making a society out of what little we had. Minho came out about two years ago, and he and I would run the whole day mapping the maze out as best we could. We finished the whole map just last year – I remember filing down sticks for it every single night until my hands were numb."

Newt shook his head at the memories, seeing the truth in Inka's previous statement now that he made the comparison between the simplicity of the problems he had been faced with day to day back in the Glade and the massively complicated ones he was facing now.

"And then..." He blinked away a few stray tears as he began to recall his downfall into the deepest pits of his mental state where he knew his demons were still dancing. "We couldn't find anything. We couldn't find a way out. We kept coming up empty handed day after day after day."

He knew Inka was watching him and letting him speak, and reminded himself to thank her endlessly for allowing him to do so instead of interrupting him with questions. She knew that this was the reason behind his eyes that darkened significantly whenever the subject of a way out was discussed, or the way that Newt had been reluctant to assign Thomas the position of the runner. Inka had watched Newt's reactions to certain words and the way his friends had phrased things around him, structuring a thesis around what the sensitive topic could have possible been. Now that he was telling her, he appreciated the fact that she was certainly going to respect him opening up and not interrupt him.

"It took a year for me to break," Newt went on, remembering the fateful day as if it had just been yesterday even though equally traumatizing events had been occurring throughout the past week. Inka's face began to grow more and more concerned as she realized that the story wasn't as simple as what she had expected, even though she had predicted a fair amount of darkness to come along with it. "I started to think we were all going to die in that stupid Glade with no answers and no memories, and then I got desperate. I thought that if this was all we had there was nothing to live for, really," Newt was rambling on at this point, but he did not care and continued to speak as if Inka was not even sitting next to him anymore. "We were just stuck in a cage alone and I didn't really care to wait around for answers if there was no way out, so I climbed up one of those stupid bloody vines that didn't even go all the way to the top, and I jumped."

There was a beat of silence, and then Inka's petrified tone as if she was hoping that she had heard something incorrectly.

"What?"

"I jumped," He repeated himself pointedly, watching her face fall even further and morph into one of incredulous horror. She stared down at his leg, the fact finally clicking in her brain that this had been the reason for his limp all along. "I jumped, and I fell."

There was another moment of silent as her mouth opened and closed like that of a fish, trying to understand why or how he had convinced himself to do such a thing. To her, the only mind state possible when running and touring the maze was the unbreakable belief that answers lay out there somewhere. She knew that Minho was existing in some sort of altered mentality where he believed the fact but had also doubted it, but for her there was no other way to tackle the test that had been trapping them in for so long.

"And for a long time it was hard to -" Newt interrupted himself as a sob forced it's way out of his throat, choking him up and forcing him to pause as he covered his mouth to calm himself down before speaking again. His voice was still shaky and his mouth still trembled as it forced itself to contain the howls he wanted to let out, but he persevered just as Inka had re-taught him to do. "It was hard to see the light in things."

Inka fixed him with a soft expression he could not read, but it reminded him of the word respect so much so that the memories of his time trapped in the med-jack hut wailing himself to sleep nearly faded away completely. The image of her and the positivity she had brought about the Glade despite her rude arrival coerced him into continuing his tale, and he took a short breath before speaking again.

"And then you came out of that bloody box," Fresh tears sprung into his eyes as he described her first day all over again as if it had been a miracle rather than a horrid addition to the experiment they had all been a part of. "After three years – you came out of that box and you convinced everyone that there was a way out without even finding one. All it took was you pushing – you believed with everything you had and I haven't seen that in a long time. It changed everything."

There was a large pregnant pause as the two stared at each other, and then Inka gently clasped Newt's hand in hers only to envelop it with her other fingers. She held it tight as she blinked away her own tears, still disbelieving that he had shared such a dark memory with her and that Newt – the boy who was so wonderful at calming her down and had been the pinnacle of stability for her – had demons the size of the sun that he had hidden away. And yet here he was, telling her how she had successfully turned his mentality around from a suicide back into what it had previously been when he himself had been a runner.

"I didn't even know I made that much of a difference," Inka murmured, blinking rapidly as her shock overcame her for a brief couple of moments. "And to think _I've_ been leaning on _you_ for support."

"We've both been leaning on each other," Newt corrected, the two not even looking at each other anymore as they sat side by side, closer than they ever had before. There was not an ounce of space in between them as they held hands, silently making a pact to continue pushing forward together. "And I don't really think that's a bad thing."

"I don't either," Inka admitted, sharing a short side glance with him where they both let the corners of their mouths twitch upwards.

"How did you do it?" Newt began suddenly, still marveling in the way that Inka had believed so boldly that there was a way out of the maze. "How did you just keep believing that there was a way out of there?"

At that, the girl beside him let out a long huff, seemingly debating the answer to the question in her own head before speaking.

"I don't know," She admitted, breathing a shaky sigh as she thought back to what Janson had told her about her trials. "But I would have to assume that after eight hundred bloody trials I would have had to have developed some kind of unbreakable mentality, no?"

Newt swallowed heavily, not wanting to have touched on the subject of her torture during the conversation but knowing that at this point it was unavoidable.

"Three years..." Her hollow chuckle filled the small compartment as one breath of joyless laughter left her lungs. Newt did not know what to say, as the moment was still too sensitive to touch base on and he did not was to upset her any more. Inka seemed to sense this, but as soon as she was about to make another bitter jab towards her past she had a revelation of sorts. "You know what I think? I think when we feel fear, we feel hope."

Newt looked towards her at that point, watching as her jaw clenched and the smooth skin filling the space around her scars tightened with it.

"And I think hope is the only thing stronger than fear."

The British boy briefly pondered that there was in fact another emotion just as strong as hope, and that perhaps that specific emotion conquered all, but knew that in this moment it was not right to bring the subject up. There were a great many things that could have been talked about in that moment, but the ex-second in command knew that he would eventually have the time to speak to her about what was truly on his mind.

"Do you remember when you told me about that tugging in your stomach?" The memory came back to Newt out of nowhere, as if it had a mind of it's own.

Inka frowned for a moment, digging through the little memory she had, and nodded briefly. "Why?"

"I don't think I realized it at the time," Newt began, taking a leap of faith as he did not know what her reaction would be like. "But I know what you meant. The entire time I knew exactly what you were talking about – it's like someone is on the other end of that string and they're pulling as hard as they can."

Inka fixed him with a gaze that Newt could only describe as uncertainty before a small smile spread over her face and she nodded, eyes growing softer with every second. He assumed she would have been happy to hear that someone else finally felt the same thing she was feeling; it would have been a relief to know that she was not alone in her thoughts. He did however, desperately want to explain to her that the pull he felt was directly towards her. She had immediately been a source of interest for him, catching his attention as soon as she had sprung into his life and creating a vortex of support and motivation for his broken soul. Unknowingly, Inka had lifted his spirits back up to the place that they originally had been and held them there without a problem.

"I know you don't like to talk about it," The girl in question interrupted his train of thought as she frowned slightly, staring off into space. "But a lot of things you do feel familiar – like someone has done them before."

"Like what?" Newt held his breath, knowing fully well what she was trying to explain but wanting to hear it from her lips.

"Like when you help me after a nightmare," She gave the first example rather sheepishly, as if the idea was stupid. "Or when I have those awful panic attacks. I don't know – it just feels...recognizable."

His heart practically stopped when his brain reminded him that there was, in fact, a large chance that many of them knew each other before they had entered the Glade. It would not have been possible to know her very intimately if she had spent all of her time running trials – but Newt felt the same way in the sense that the deja-vu associated with the moments that he comforted her was a constant reminder of the fact that the possibility of them having known each other prior to the Maze Trials was high. And now, Newt was fairly ready to embrace those odds.

"I remember you asked me why I thought we were both British," Newt began, trying to ease the topic into play softly. "And I remember I didn't want to talk about it at all – mostly because I was scared. I didn't like the fact that no matter who we might have known on the outside those connections were erased. We were forced to start over, and I didn't even want to bother thinking about who I might've known because it was too painful to think of all the severed ties."

"But connections don't die out just like that," Inka argued, remembering how her memories had come back as if someone had forgotten to clean those certain parts of her brain. "I don't think you can erase all of that – we all remember _how_ to do things, but not why or when we learned how to do them. We remember feelings, smells, names of things, touches – but not when we learned them or why we feel them. We had to learn all of that again, but that doesn't mean that we might not feel the same way we did towards someone."

Newt waited for a split second in awe, hoping that she was not finished with her point as his eyes roamed over her scruffy hair and sharp jawline. Despite the long scars coating her features and furrowed brows he found her the most beautiful sight he'd ever laid eyes on, and couldn't take his gaze off of her.

"I don't know," She finally looked towards him, the light in her grey eyes reflecting into his brown irises. "Maybe this is a shot in the dark, but you're different – I feel closer to you than the others. The string pulled me to you."

Seconds after she uttered the last sentence the remaining space in between them closed, their lips fusing and eyes slamming shut while Newt's hands deftly clasped any part of her he could reach as proof that he felt the same way as she. Her small fingers intertwined themselves in his hair before her hands traveled down his neck, shoulders and finally rested on his chest. Beside their soft breaths and heady touches there were no other noises in the small compartment that almost felt as though it was sheltering them from the rest of the world, hiding them from the horrors and nurturing the intimacy of the moment. Though the lack of memories in the past served as a mental blockade, the muscle memory of holding each other and skin on skin contact was like second nature to the pair. The physical memories ran too deep for any swipe to erase, and it was as if their skin had absorbed each other's information. Their movements flowed like clockwork and both parties felt how easy and natural it was to shift against each other. Touches, smells and the tastes all felt like home – as if they had just returned from a long journey and were feeling each other for the first time again. Their senses latched onto each other and welded together, performing a dance that had been buried by years of time but not forgotten.

What felt like hours passed by as they shared the intimate moment, only halting the dance when it came to a natural end and sharing dizzy, flushed expressions. Swollen lips and red cheeks were all that seemed to matter in the galaxy for several short minutes, but the two were abruptly interrupted and robbed of any more time when a soft knocking reverberated through the empty belly of the ship.

"You guys still alive in there?" Minho's echo reached their ears from the location of the hole as he took one step inside, not being able to see them clearly half because of their position and half because of the dark.

"Yeah," Inka called back quickly, feeling brave even though her voice came out hoarse and throaty.

"Okay..." Minho seemed hesitant to leave them alone, and made no move to retreat from his position until he had informed the lone pair that the team was going to head to sleep. "We're all gonna get some shut-eye, just so you know."

"Good that," Newt called back, waiting until his friend had left before he turned back towards Inka who had cleared her throat quietly. "We should get some rest."

He made a motion back towards where Minho's voice had come from, and Inka nodded briefly with a shy smile playing on her lips before standing up and moving out of the compartment. She carried both blankets on her shoulders still, only handing Newt's back to him as they clambered out of the torn hole in the side of the ship and reestablished their positions amongst the group. The two noticed that Thomas had rejoined the circle of survivors and copied their actions, huddling himself around the fire as the night sky grew darker and the temperature dropped.

To battle this and to stop Inka from freezing overnight, Newt quickly draped both of their blankets over their forms and huddled her to his chest, leaning his head back on his pack as to mimic a real pillow. He ignored curious glances from his sleepy friends, instead choosing to focus on the way Inka's body reacted to the immediate heat and quickly fell asleep nested into his side. It took several minutes for Newt to fall into the dream world himself thanks to the considerable amount of tingles that were affecting his stomach and making his hold on the small British she-bean tucked in beside him tighten, but he was soon able to match his breathing with hers and close his eyes for the final time that day.

 **A/N: I'm aware I'm following the movie's timeline more than the books, since I feel that it's easier to follow for people who are new to the series and the books are really, really complicated. I don't intend on having this story to be more than thirty chapters, so there needs to be a cutoff point and writing after five books does not meet that goal. Bear with me!**


	15. Strike

**Strike**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.**

The seven survivors had been walking for what seemed like days, various articles of clothing wrapped around their heads to prevent sunburn as they tried to save as much water as possible. The overall amount was decreasing by each hour as the team tried to preserve it as much as possible, knowing that they needed to drink to stay alive especially with no food rations left. The perishables had been eaten long ago, as the fuel was the only thing keeping their legs going at the moment and preventing them from crumbling. Despite the harsh conditions, the group continued on step by step in a morose silence as the wind whistled around them. The mountains grew closer every hour, beckoning the survivors into their midst across the sandy plain they were trudging across.

No sounds of rotor wings or airborne machinery followed them as the group of seven traveled side by side, brains too numb to think of the events thus far and only allowing them the focus necessary to put one foot in front of the other to keep walking. Every several meters someone would stumble, causing the survivor next to them to tug them back upwards and keep them moving. The horizontal chain of youths moved at a steady pace that seemed to never end, and at one point Inka was certain that she was hallucinating puddles of water every hundred feet. The only other thought in her head was that of the previous night's events with Newt, although even those were blocked out of her head when she refocused on consuming all of her concentration towards walking. They would have endless time to talk about things when they got out of the scorch, but as of now they needed to think only of survival. The sun barred down on them and basked them in heat, causing sweat to pool all over their skin despite the group having stripped down to t-shirts and tanks except whatever articles of clothing they had chosen to protect their heads. Newt felt like he was drowning in the sun's rays, the only incentive to keep moving being the fact that the survivors needed to get out of this blasted scorch before WCKD's air force came back to look for them.

It was the oriental ex-runner who let his frustration get the best of him first, as he had thrown his hollow canteen several meters away after discovering that it was completely void of liquid. Aris picked it up and placed it in his pack when the group migrated towards the spot, knowing that if they did come into contact with water later on it would be useful to gather it. Minho chose not to comment on this, and the group continued to move in silence.

It seemed impossible to go a day without words, but with their stamina waning the group knew that they could not spare any energy on conversation as they continue to move across the barren landscape. The only interesting thing besides the mountains far ahead of them were the few rocks scattered about on the ground, and even Minho found himself counting the total amount of stone lumps that he could spot along their journey. Yet the seven youths persisted against all the odds facing them, and even managed to speed their pace up by a bit as soon as the sun started to fall in the sky. The cascade of colors that resulted an hour later when it fully began to set was miraculous, providing the first comforting visage in a long time since the Glade. If she were in a comfortable and safe spot with the right supplies, Inka thought as she stared at the large orange orb disappearing behind the mountains, she would have taken the time to recreate such a natural masterpiece on paper.

"Thomas," Frypan stopped the boy around an hour after darkness had fallen. "We gotta stop for the night."

The ex-cook motioned towards the rest of the group, who looked as though they had seen much better days and truly needed a night's rest before they continued on their journey. Several of them swayed slightly in their spot as they stood, squinting towards Thomas who nodded after a brief several moments and began to settle himself down. The group then formed somewhat of a circle on the ground, trying to get into the most comfortable position on the rough ground as they could and laying out their packs as pillows. Inka landed herself next to Newt once more, and the two slept back to back for the night without blankets. It seemed that although the air was warmer in what was once the oceanic region of the land they were travelling across, the price they had to pay was the harshness of the ground they slept on. No one complained however, and the group managed to fall asleep rather quickly thanks to the sheer amount of effort they had put themselves through during the day.

* * *

"G-get up!"

Once again, Inka was harshly awoken not by Newt's voice this time around but by Thomas' voice instructing them all to rise. He sounded rather frantic, causing the small British girl to dart up in panic and acknowledge that the night was still upon them before looking towards the him in question.

"Frypan, Aris – get up! Newt!" Thomas was grabbing his pack and standing, trying to get his sleepy friends on their feet at the same time. "Teresa!"

Inka quickly shook Newt to wake him, going from soft to harsh shakes when she realized he was a heavy sleeper. It took him a moment to finally realize that he wasn't dreaming, and that the she-bean above him was sounding rather pressed for time as she called his name.

"Wha -" Newt's bleary eyes tried to focus as his groggy voice greeted his own ears, and he used his elbows to prop himself up off of the ground. "What is it?"

"I see something!" Thomas pointed towards a large group of lights in the distance that the group had somehow not spotted during the day. "Do you see that? Lights!"

"We made it..." Newt murmured in total disbelief as he rose out of the spot he had been sleeping in, shocked that they had been able to make it to another civilization in two solid days.

Suddenly, a deafening crack of thunder could be heard from behind them and the entire group turned in horror only to see an enormous storm brewing behind them. At first they stared, petrified, towards the silver light shifting behind the clouds that seemed to be aiming straight for them, but as soon as the first strike hit the ground about a hundred meters away all of the survivors jumped.

"Shit! Come on!" Thomas grabbed his pack and watched the rest of the group follow suit. "We gotta go - let's go!"

It took several seconds to pick up the pace again, especially after having been asleep all night long, but the survivors found themselves running once more in a relatively circular formation. The lightning behind their feet seemed to grow closer with every clap of thunder, and several of the group could feel the electricity tickling the heels of their feet. At this point the lights in front of them had revealed themselves to be a rather large building, not as big as Janson's base but large enough to hold several hundred people. It was the teenagers best chance of survival at this point, so they increased their pace as best they could and continued to sprint towards the compound.

Several covered their heads as a particularly large bolt seemed to crack the ground thirty feet beside them, and Teresa found herself separated from the group momentarily as her steps faltered in fear. She was thrust back into the formation by Inka, who gave her a strong shove and then continued to bring up the back of the cluster of youths alongside Minho.

"Come on, Teresa!" Thomas was pulling her next, increasing the girl's pace as the team neared the compound.

Abandoned cars were easily visible at this point, scattered in front of the building they were avidly sprinting towards and forcing the group to weave as to avoid the large metallic objects that would no doubt draw electricity. Large sparks flew next to where Inka had been running, causing her to yelp in fear and increase her pace until she was running next to Newt and Frypan. She did not want to risk being struck, and she knew that Minho would be capable of pushing a little bit harder as well until they reached the door Thomas had spotted.

"Get inside!" Thomas roared as soon as the team was in a twenty meter range of the compound's walls. "Go!"

The boy pulled himself a bit further behind as he allowed his friends to reach the door first, but out of nowhere was struck with a white hot heat and found himself behind flung several meters to the side before hitting the ground harshly. A ringing could be heard in his ear as he rolled about in pain, finding that his muscles were twitching up and did not reset themselves until he made the effort to move himself out of his shocked state. It was then that he realized a bolt had struck him, and he immediately looked around to check if anyone else had been hit.

His eyes fell on Minho's form lying several feet away.

"Minho!" He could feel himself formulating the words, but the noise in his ears did not let him hear his tone. He was sure it sounded panicked and frantic just like his feelings in the moment, but Thomas pushed all of the fear away and stumbled over to his unconscious friend with a sole purpose in mind. At first he tried to lift the boy himself, having checked his body for injuries and found none besides his slightly singed clothing, but he knew that he would not be able to hold the weight of his ex-running partner on his own.

Then, hands were helping him with the body and he found himself almost shocked that his friends had come back for him; the faces of Newt and Aris – equally as frightened as him – stared at their friends seemingly lifeless form before lifting the injured boy up off of the ground. Newt and Thomas slung the boy across their shoulders and began to run once more, significantly weighed down by Minho's form but undeterred in their mission to get the whole group to safety.

Inka, on the other hand, had seen the ordeal play out and had chosen to sprint towards the giant door, flying past Teresa who was not at all shocked that the tiny girl could move so fast for reasons she had not even revealed to Thomas. Before she knew it she was assisting in efforts to pry open the metal door, noting that Inka showed a very severe increase in her vigor when her friends were in danger. Teresa was no stranger to this statistic, but she knew to keep the secret to herself for the time being and concentrated on heaving the large door open with all of her might.

"MOVE!" The British girl screamed over the storm as soon as they had succeeded in opening the door, shoving Teresa inside and nearly bursting Frypan's eardrum as he darted inside the compound as well. She did not even want to accept the possibility that all four of her friends still outside could be lost, so instead she focused her efforts on encouraging them to pick their pace up. "Come on! In, in!"

The four remaining boys finally burst through the opening of the building seconds later, causing Frypan to slam the giant door shut rather easily whilst Thomas quickly set down a still unconscious Minho. The pitch black darkness consumed the group, forcing them to huddle together and crowd around their injured friend.

"Who's got a light?!" Thomas blurted, trying to determine if he could feel a heartbeat on Minho as Newt rapidly searched for the light he knew he had clipped to his pack somewhere. Finally finding it and pulling it out, he shined it on his unconscious friend's face and watched as Thomas tried to shake him awake. "Minho?!"

"Minho!" Newt tried to wake the oriental boy as well, placing a hand on his stomach and trying to shift the boy left from right.

"Minho, come on man!" Frypan knelt beside the ex-runner as well, practically begging for him to miraculously arise. They could not afford one more loss; their hearts would be too heavy to carry on with that amount of grief. "Minho!"

"Minho?! Minho!" This time it was Inka who shook the boy violently, grasping the lapels of his coat and tugging him back and forth until the boy finally gave out a groan.

The entire group let out a sigh of relief as the first signs of life could be seen on Minho's face, and small smiles began to grace their features when he slowly but surely came to.

"What happened?" He asked, lifting his hands up to where he could see them as if he expected injury.

"You got struck by lightning!" Thomas nearly laughed as he shared relieved smiles with the rest of the group around him. "Can you get up?"

"Oh?" Minho's brain did not seem to fully latch onto what had happened, but instead of pressing the issue his friends slowly stood him up and checked him for any more injuries. "Y-yeah. Thanks guys..."

The huddled bunch of survivors paid no heed as to what was surrounding them in the pitch black room, nor even bothered to explore the building itself as they were more preoccupied with making sure their friend was one hundred percent mentally present and stable to take care of himself once more. The lightning strike had seemingly fried his senses temporarily, as he complained of not being able to feel his fingertips or toes and explained that although his vision was getting better by the second, some spots were still blurry. The group hurriedly gave him water and patted him on the back, hoping that the effects from the strike would heal themselves quickly as their endeavors in the scorch depended on it.

"What is that smell?" Teresa muttered from about a meter away, having distanced herself from the group to explore the room when she was certain that Minho could stand.

Inka heard the girl speaking but did not fully register it, and did not even bother to turn around until she heard the other girl's sudden gasp of horror paired with a familiar screech of pain.

"Oh!" Teresa was quickly pulled back by Thomas, but by that point her light had shone onto whatever had lunged itself at her and revealed the howling perpetrator.

"Shit!" Thomas cried out as he realized it was another of the creatures they had run from, except it's leg seemed to be chained to the ground as an effort to minimize the distance it could move. "Not again!"

Another vile shriek from their right caused the group to release cries of shock, and all of them shined their lights collectively in the direction of the noise to reveal two more beasts chained to the wall near them. The monsters oozed pus and blood, dark purple veins consuming their faces and highlighting the ugly pale color that their skin had become. Their eyes, empty and pale, seemed to glow in the dark as if someone had stuck tiny light bulbs behind their face and plugged their heads into a socket.

"Over there!" Frypan pointed his light in the direction of more appalling retching noises, and when the group followed suit they all gaped in disgust.

What seemed to be a small army of these creatures was chained up around the warehouse, all snarling and lunging towards the group of survivors as if they were their last meal. The seven teenagers yelped and clasped onto each other to try and ball up into a small space, fearful of the bloodthirsty creatures that they seemed to be trapped with. There was nowhere in the room to run and nowhere to hide from them, and it seemed to be that these monsters were attracted to the light as well as the touch or smell of immune humans. The awful beings' rotting skin was cause for the smell that the ex-Gladers were suddenly all too aware of, as well as the flaps of skin that seemed to drip even more pus and blood than was humanly possible.

"Shit – careful!" Newt tugged Inka closer to him as he realized that she was on the edge of their tight circle, several steps away from a particularly vicious female beast who's jaw had fallen off.

"I see you've met our guard dogs!" A husky female voice suddenly called out from the far end of the warehouse, and the group was temporarily disorientated after hearing another human before their eyes focused in on a golden glow coming from an opened door. A figure stood in the middle of it, slowly beginning to walk their way through what was obviously a meticulously placed path in the middle of the whining creatures. The monsters had been chained so that the area was unreachable, although they valiantly tried when the woman stalked in between their ranks. What the survivors were greeted with when the person's face came into view was a dark eyed female with long brown hair, shrouded in strange brown clothing that looked as though it had seen better days. Despite her short height her stance exuded dominance and she quickly gave the scraggly group a haughty once-over.

"You guys look like shit," The girl summed up her thoughts in a quick sentence, counting the number of survivors in her head before heaving a sigh.

"Well – come with me," She swiveled on her heel and began to walk back where she had come from before noticing that none of the group was following her. As a result, she turned and fixed them with a rather sour glance whilst motioning to the creatures surrounding her. "Unless you want to stay here with them?"

None of the survivors seemed to enjoy that second option, and figured that it was in their best interest to follow the domineering girl. One by one the group went through the awful path that had been cleared of creatures, shivering as they avoided reaching hands and the snapping jaws of the hungry beasts. It took Inka a moment to move, as she was paralyzed in fear and would not let go of the bunch of Newt's shirt that she had grabbed. He looked down at it for a moment and noticed the whiteness of her knuckles before gently prying her hand away, taking it in his and guiding them after their group carefully. Although the cranks continued to squeal and groan in frustration he held her tight to him and refused to let go, only putting a bit of distance in between them when they had cleared the first set of stairs the short girl led them through.

No one piped up or asked any questions until they were walking down a long hallway in the direction of a large yellow door, at which point Frypan's curiosity got the best of him.

"What the hell are those things?" He targeted the question to their savior specifically, still not having calmed his breath after the traumatic events and not hiding his shaky tone. He could not remember why the creatures were behaving that way for the life of him, although he briefly remembered parts of Ava Paige's speech to them after they had escaped the maze.

"Cranks," The short girl answered simply, pulling open a large door that revealed an even larger room filled with dishes of fire and lanterns placed across every surface possible. "Sun flare virus victims – we figured we could use 'em as guards."

Most of the group was distracted after her explanation, looking around them at the large room that was bathed in light and looked rather organized for a building that also stored cranks. Inka found herself momentarily shocked still at the sheer amount of fire that existed in the space, and only moved when Newt managed to tug her along all the while sparing wondrous glances at the lit walls himself.

"Come on," The female leading the group through the building instructed the rag-tag bunch of survivors. "Keep up! Jorge wants to meet you."

"And who's Jorge?" Thomas questioned as they followed the short girl up another flight of stairs, looking at her rather suspiciously. He did not want to be deprived of any more answers, and certainly was not eager to visit any more people who 'wanted to meet them'.

"You'll see," The mysterious girl gave him a slight smile that somehow comforted and discomforted Thomas at the same time, rendering him completely emotionally unprepared for when the group entered a room filled mostly with burly men. Several women sat strewn about, although they looked just as roughed up around the edges as the males and did not look particularly friendly whatsoever.

None of the team stopped, but they all stared around them at the people who could have once been soldiers or survivors of WCKD's cruel tests themselves and shivered as they stared back just as evenly. Many of the men actually began to follow the group, flanking them wherever they could and trying their best to intimidate the younger survivors. At one point, Newt looked back and was greeted with a rather large man's ugly brute of a face smiling eerily at him, making him increasing his pace slightly and subconsciously tighten his grip on Inka's hand. He had not even realized that he was still holding it until she began to squeeze the life force out of it, indicating that she was nervous about the overwhelming male presence in the room and making him rather relieved that no one else could see their intertwined fingers.

"Don't mind them - no one's come out of the scorch for a long time," The short girl explained as if it was the easiest thing to understand in the world that at least twenty men were following them. "They're just curious. I am too..."

"Well," Newt frowned, increasing his pace slightly and continuing to clasp Inka's hand in his. "Now I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this place."

"Let's just hear him out," Thomas assured his friends as they continued to follow the mystery girl up another set of stairs. "See what he has to say."

The team – and whatever men chose to go with them up the staircase – quickly kept up with their lead until they reached an office-like room, cluttered with mechanical parts and various radio parts. It was at that point that the group reconvened in the centre, looking towards the back of a man who sat at a desk near a large window listening to a radio.

"Jorge," The girl approached the man, ignoring the fact that he was wearing a headset and fiddling with the knobs on the communication device. "They're here."

"Sh, sh..." The man reprimanded, continuing to listen for things the survivors could not make out before he lost the signal completely and the line faded out to total static. "Dammit."

He stood in a huff, placing his hands on his hips before sighing and making a face. The survivors shared uncertain glances as they finally got a good look at the Hispanic man's aged face that was topped off with a graying beard and a mischievous pair of brown eyes. His clothing was suspiciously posh for a survivor of the scorch, as his plaid shirt and vest – topped off with a dapper golden chain – looked out of place and even inconvenient for such times. This reminded Inka of Janson's silly leather jacket that made ridiculous 'thwapping' noises wherever he walked and was extremely impractical for the current state of the world, making her thankful for her own clothing despite the garbs having practically been charity.

"You ever get the feeling the whole world is against you?" Jorge interrupted her thoughts as he began to walk towards the group who had tensed up even further after the men who had decided to follow them up the staircase filled the space in around them.

"Three questions," He pointed towards their general direction before beginning to fill up a glass with water. "One, where are you going; two, where did you come from; and three, how can I profit?"

There was a resounding silence as none of the group answered, prompting Jorge to spread his arms sarcastically. "Don't all answer at once!"

"We're headed to the mountains," Thomas finally revealed, somewhat reluctantly and uncomfortably as he realized that everyone's eyes snapped onto him. "We're looking for the Right Arm."

There was laughter from the various men around the room, but the mystery girl and Jorge shared a secretive glance that Newt managed to catch. It was this that prompted him to pay more attention to where Jorge's eyes flitted in between his questions; the man was obviously in charge of this compound and whatever secrets he held were not going to be extracted easily.

"You mean you're looking for ghosts," Jorge smiled teasingly, although the condescending gesture did not reach his eyes and seemed to fade completely as he downed the glass of water he had been holding in one shot. "Question number two; where did you come from?"

He stepped closer to the group and Inka subconsciously licked her dry lips as she eyed the pitcher of water sitting on the desk. Her canteen was empty and she did not know whose else was still full of water to still be rationed out, but she would not have been surprised to hear that everyone else's was empty by that point. They were all dehydrated, exhausted and fed up with being chased by whatever came next, but despite all of that the only thing Inka desired in that moment was a glass of fresh water that she knew she could not reach.

"That's our business," It was who Minho butted into the conversation and interrupted Inka's distracted train of thought this time, having given Thomas a glance as if to double check that he could have his turn to speak.

Jorge seemed to not like this response at all, and before they knew it the survivors were being grabbed from either side by the large brutes that had been following and cornering them up to this point. Many of the survivors let out cries of complaint and tried to fight back, but only Inka – who had seen the attack coming and was at an advantage of being in the middle of the group wedged between Newt and Frypan – was able to get in a couple good kicks before the men held her down. Her British counterpart heard her struggles and tried to break free from his captors as well, finding that an unrecognizable feeling in the pit of his stomach fueled by her cries caused him to fight back a bit harder. It was a mix of protectiveness and the feeling of not being able to guarantee her safety at the moment, Newt realized, that truly made him feel dread inside at the moment.

"Hey! HEY!" Thomas struggled as he recognized his friend's sounds of discomfort, hoping that no harm was coming to them. "Get the fuck off of me!"

"Oh shut up – don't be a big baby," The mystery girl teased before lowering some kind of heat onto his neck that was not particularly painful but discomforting.

"Hey!" He cried again, shoving against the mens' hold even more when the object behind his neck beeped. "What is that?!"

"You were right," He heard the mystery girl say to Jorge from several feet away, causing Thomas to cease his movements.

There was a brief moment of silence while the man looked over what the girl had shown him, and then instructed her to scan the rest of the survivors. Frypan and Minho were next on that list, letting out grunts of complaint as the girl scanned the backs of their necks and they felt the uncomfortable heat as well. None of them were released from the thugs hold after they had been scanned, forcing them to stay awkwardly bent at a ninety degree angle facing the ground. The girl moved on to scan Newt, who stayed silent but grimaced at the feeling, and then Inka who tried to get a cheap shot in and was quickly held down even tighter.

"Hold on..." The mystery girl stopped as soon as Inka's mark caused a second beep on her scanner. "What...?"

She retraced her steps back to the last golden-haired boy she had scanned, pulling his hair forwards to expose his mark again.

"This is a match pair...a class one match pair!" The mystery girl seemed to disbelieve what she saw on the scanner before she checked one more time, making Inka growl rather viciously as her hair was tugged again. "Jorge, this...this is...I've never seen a surviving match pair before."

Although Newt's only view was the ground at that point, he could feel the girl scan his neck again and knew that it was him and Inka she was speaking of. The machinery the girl had been using to scan beeped twice in that odd pattern again, making her release a chuckle of disbelief before showing it to her superior. His heart beat fast in his throat, making his palms sweat profusely as he wondered what this new information could mean. He knew that Inka – and most likely all of their friends around them – was thinking the same, and did not even need to look over at her to confirm this. A match pair? Why? What mattered so much about it being a class one?

As it turned out Jorge did not question the mystery girl's findings, and instead let one of his eyebrows raise slightly as he smirked down at the scanning device. He lifted a hand briefly to instruct the goons holding down the teenagers to relinquish their grips so that they could look at him, and passed the scanning device back to his junior associate.

"I'm sorry – looks like you're all tagged. You all came from WCKD," Jorge frowned at the lot of youths who were looking rather miffed with him at the moment as they reached for the back of their necks. "And that means you're valuable."

The seven looked at each other in growing concern as the men who had been holding them closed in, and Newt barely had time to give Inka a reassuring glance before the two were being tugged along a passageway by their respective brutes. The large overbearing men cared not for their comfortable passage, and forcefully pushed the teens along despite any complaint under threat of obvious violence. They were lead down several corridors until they reached what seemed to be a large cylindrical room containing a massive silo in the middle, and before they knew it only their feet were being tied together for a reason none of them could guess. When Frypan tried to ask what the goons were going to do the men did nothing but laugh heartily and continue their task, eventually revealing that their bonds were attached to long ropes that connected to the ceiling of the silo.

"You've got to be kidding!" Inka let out an outraged cry of complaint as she tried to look down the large structure, knowing exactly what the brutes' plan was now after seeing their ropes.

Unfortunately the man handling her decided that because of her comment she was going over the edge first, and with a last furious cry she was pushed over the edge. Her body swung and she flipped upside down, making all of the blood rush to her head extremely quickly and causing mild disorientation for a split second before she began to swear profusely. Newt felt some of the worry leave his heart when he heard her using the curses he had taught her in the Glade, and was comforted by the fact that she was safe even hanging upside down in a giant abandoned silo. This turned out to be a positive note, because he was next and the goons definitely did not care to aim properly. As each survivor was tossed into the cylindrical space they would bump into each other, their swinging only coming to a stop when they ceased their struggling and the brutes left the room.

"Great plan Thomas..." Minho quipped sarcastically as the seven tried to look around the silo upside down. "'Just hear what the man has to say'...really working out for us now."

"Oh shut up Minho," Thomas grumbled, trying to reach the rope tied tightly around his feet. "Maybe I can reach the rope..."

He gave up after a minute of trying, finding that his core was burning too strongly and that he did not have the right amount of energy to complete the task. The entire group was drained both mentally and physically, and were in no state to deal with this sort of predicament.

"Enjoying the view?" Jorge's patronizing tone floated through the air as the man came into view from a corridor not too far away from where they were handing.

"Oh for..." Inka nearly growled as she caught sight of his stupid cane. "What the bloody fuck do you want?"

"That is the question my dear," Jorge giggled uncharacteristically as he noted the frustration in her voice and shifted closer to Thomas who was hanging closest to the walkway. "My men want to sell you back to WCKD; life has taught them to think small, but I've never liked that. Something tells me you haven't either."

"Is it the blood rushing through my head, or is this shank not making any sense?" Minho complained from his spot near Thomas, fixing Jorge with a crude facial expression as best he could upside down.

"Tell me what you know about the Right Arm," Jorge held out his cane almost threateningly towards the group, proving that he did not need it to walk but only used it as an accessory.

"I thought you said they were ghosts," Newt quoted almost sarcastically, showing a very deep distrust for the man in charge standing in front of them all.

"I happen to believe in ghosts," Jorge smiled slightly towards Newt, turning back to Thomas after a moment and placing his cane back on the ground again. "Especially when I hear them chattering on the airwaves."

Jorge made his way over to where the lever connected to their ropes was sitting, and placed his hand on the control stick. This caused the whole group to tense, acknowledging that the man was fully in control at this point and could very possibly kill them.

"You tell me what you know," Jorge continued very seriously at this point, his face a mask of distrust and uncertainty. "And maybe we can make a deal."

"Alright," Thomas agreed hesitantly. "We don't know much..."

As if it was a repeat of minutes prior, Jorge did not appreciate such an answer, and cranked the lever just enough to allow the survivors to drop several feet all at once. This caused them to shout out all at once, Inka's cry being the most significant as it was the highest pitched and allowed it to echo through the silo.

"Woah!" Thomas shouted, trying to gain control of the situation once more when his adrenaline got flowing. "Okay, okay – alright, they're hiding in the mountains! And they attacked WCKD and they got a bunch of kids – that's it, that's all we know."

For a split second Jorge almost looked frightened, as if he had been denying the possibility of something for so long that he was not ready to accept it's reality, but the expression was quickly wiped off of his face when the sound of footsteps greeted his ears. It was one of the brutes, and he did not look happy to find Jorge poking around with them. Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, the walkie talkie in his pocket had been in direct contact with the very organization these children were on the run from, but the giant man stayed quiet and simply glared.

"Jorge – what's going on?"

The goon with the unkempt goatee was a site for sore eyes, Jorge grimaced, almost revealing his true intentions through his eyes before he turned back to Thomas and smiled coolly.

"Me and my new friends were just getting acquainted," Jorge assured the monstrous hulk of a human being beside him, comparing the man to an overstuffed couch in his mind. "We're done now."

"Hey, wait – wait!" Thomas held out a hand in complaint, trying to get Jorge to stay as he was their only chance of escape. "You're not going to help us?"

Newt nearly blanched when Thomas let the topic of conversation slip, catching the expression that the brute gave Jorge which revealed suspicion of what the Hispanic man had been speaking about before he'd arrived on the scene.

"Don't worry hermano," Jorge assured, trying to cover up for Thomas' mistake as best as possible and smiling towards the goon beside him. "We will get you back to where you belong – hang tight!"

With that, Jorge left the silo and abandoned the group to deal with the lumbering hulk of a man, who merely stared very oddly at the two women hung upside down amidst the boys ranks. To their surprise however, he only looked around for a brief five minutes before retreating back into the same hallway that Jorge had disappeared into. This gave the Gladers time to plan their escape, and it was Thomas who cleverly solved the puzzle first. Physics was not too hard of a concept to get his mind wrapped around once he was placed directly in a situation that required that sort of thinking strategy, and he used the best of his knowledge to gauge his surroundings one last time before launching the plan.

"Minho, you're in line with that lever – you can push someone over!" Thomas pointed to the contraption near one of the support beams to the silo, connected to the ropes that were tied to their feet.

"Inka's the lightest one – push her!" Teresa directed Minho towards the lighter girl, giving him a swing so that he could reach her.

"Come on Minho," Newt encouraged, watching as the boy grasped Inka by the waist and mumbled something incoherent before shoving her with all his might towards the lever.

"Shit!" She cursed as her fingers barely grazed the metal contraption, and each of the survivors let out a groan of defeat before Minho caught her and swung her again. It was another failure, resulting in an even worse curse flying out of the tiny British girl's mouth as she failed to grasp the metal bar.

"Harder," Aris prompted the boy as the rest of his friends chimed in, spouting words of encouragement. "Come on, Minho!"

On the final try Minho gave the push every ounce of energy he had left in his arms, watching as the girl successfully closed her hands around the bars surrounding the device. Several of the survivors let out shouts of triumph before she reached forward and pulled the actual lever, causing them to shout out in fear instead. At this point Inka was capable of untying herself and quickly grabbed a long metal rod to begin to pull the other survivors to the side, the rope having enough slack to safely allow them to rest on the edge while they untied their ropes. Each survivor began to help as soon as they could, Thomas, Teresa and Newt being the first several untied. Before they could begin to reach for Minho however, the silo was bathed in light and a large helicopter blade could be heard from outside. Then, before they knew it, Janson's familiar magnified voice was booming throughout the compound.

" _Good evening!"_ He began, not sounding the least bit angry that his test subjects had escaped from him and found the very people he had been hoping to shelter them from. _"This is the World In Catastrophe Killzone Department – we have your compound completely surrounded."_

The survivors did not let the speech deter their speed, and instead hurried their actions as they reached for the remaining three survivors hanging in the silo.

" _You find yourself with no fault of your own in the possession of WCKD property,"_ Janson continued, smirking as he knew fully well that no matter where the kids were in the building they would hear that comment loud and clear.

"I want to slit his throat," Inka let out a growl and viciously untied Frypan's bindings before throwing the rope down, causing Newt to look over at her momentarily in bewilderment before refocusing on untying Aris.

 _"_ _Return them to us unharmed and we'll consider this a simple misunderstanding – or you can resist, and every last one of you will die,"_ Janson's magnified voice did not cease speaking, causing frustration amongst the group who were deftly untying their friends so that they could escape the compound. There was no telling what Janson would do to them if they were caught, causing the panic to rise once more as they fully accepted that the running from WCKD would never stop. _"_ _It won't be long before the Flare wash out the rest of us. The hope for a cure lies in your hands. The choice is yours."_

Inka briefly noted Teresa's slight frown as she untied Minho's bonds, but did not have time to question it before the whole group was tugging each other along in efforts to move out of the room as quickly as possible. Their progress was halted immediately however, when they came face to face with the very brute who had been checking up on them minutes ago and was now holding a pistol grip shotgun towards the group with a very sadistic grin on his ugly face.

"We're not trying to cause any trouble," Thomas rose his hands in mock surrender, trying to reason with the man who did not look like he could be reasoned with. "We just want to get out of here!"

"Is that so?" The goon teased, raising his right hand so that the walkie talkie he had been holding now rested in front of his face. "Janson, I got 'em for you – I'm bringing them down."

When none of the group made a move to follow the gargantuan sized man after his statement - which revealed him to be an underling of Janson - the man in question held the small double barrel weapon closer to their faces and growled for them to move along. This caused Thomas to let out a small grunt before he took hold of the man's gun, resulting in a shot firing off to the ceiling as the two struggled. Inka shrieked again and the entire group collectively tried to assist Thomas to no avail, as the man regained control and shoved Thomas back into the other youths.

"You little shit," He seethed, releasing the safety on the weapon and pointing it directly at Thomas' chest before pulling the trigger.

Or so the group thought.

The resounding gunshot that echoed through the room caused all seven teenagers to still, looking towards their friend that the man had fired towards in panic. No blood greeted their eyesight and Thomas did not seem to be hurt, so the group turned back towards the man in confusion and watched him drop like a sac of potatoes. It was then that the mystery girl was revealed behind him, tense and agitated as she wielded a small pistol that had clearly been the culprit of the firing. The perpetrator lay dead at her feet, back bleeding profusely as her shot had clearly ruptured one of his vital organs.

"Come on!" She interrupted the group's shock and prompted them to follow her, Newt tugging Inka along by her arm seeing ashow the smaller girl was clearly shaken. Neither of them noticed Teresa's hesitance, nor her swipe at the floor as she grabbed for something. "Let's go!"

The group stumbled along passageways that they hadn't known existed up to this point, following the mystery girl blindly as she led them wherever. Based on her most recent act and her desire to move the youths as quickly as possible, the survivors deduced that she was most likely not on Janson's side and wanted to guarantee the groups' safety. Also based on the fact that she was leading them through corridors that they assumed Janson's cronies – or whoever else he had sent into the building to collect them – did not know about, their chances were better with her than on their own. She led them through three more sets of hallways and up another flight of stairs before they came into contact with anyone else, rendering them slightly shocked.

"Brenda!" Jorge revealed the girl's name as soon as they rounded the next corner, surprising the group who thought he had wanted to hand them in to WCKD instead of protecting them. "We don't have much time!"

It was at that point that Inka realized – as well as the rest of the runaways – that an old fashioned swing song was playing over the loudspeakers and successfully blocking out any more words that Janson had to say. In fact, his magnified voice outside of the compound had quieted completely, the only noise now being the rotor wings that continued to whir incessantly. The motive for playing the swing track was not explained to the survivors as Jorge rushed them along, leading them down another corridor that connected to a small room where fishnets were strung on the ceilings.

"Let's go, let's go!" Jorge led them to a pair of large glass double doors, shoving them open so that they revealed the outside world and a giant gaping hole in between the building they were standing in and several crumbled skyscrapers across. A rope was strung in between with at least ten harnesses dangling on it's end attached to Jorge's building, indicating that he had prepared such a plan a long time ago for times such as this.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Frypan explained, realizing exactly what Jorge had in mind.

"Oh!" Inka let out a gasp as she noted the immense hundred foot drop between Jorge's office and the ground far below where the scorch lay. "No – absolutely not!"

"Plan B hermanos," He looked solemnly between all of the youths, giving them the decision of their lives. "You kids want to get to the Right Arm? I'll lead you to them – but you got to owe me."

"Are you bloody mental?" Inka's face scrunched up in disbelief as she flipped to face Jorge, horrified at the prospect that she was going to have to risk her life dangling on a flimsy harness. "You don't have a fucking fire escape?! Or parachutes?! We may as well ask Janson to join the party if this is how you want to do things!"

"Do or die – follow me!" Jorge ignored the girl's complaints as he grabbed a harness attached to the rope and catapulted himself away from the wall, bolting down the zip line as fast as the wind would allow.

The survivors watched in shock as his form grew further and further away, disbelief etched across their faces as they debated how he could have performed such a thing with such ease. It was no doubt that this eccentric and erudite man also had a fierce side to him, and that part of his personality continued to surprise the survivors who now were faced with the fact that they were going to have to follow his lead and attach themselves to the harnesses that would move them into the next set of buildings – safe from Janson who was still hovering in his blasted helicopter in front of the compound.

"Go!" Brenda began to pressure the survivors to move themselves, knowing that they did not have much time before Jorge's plan was complete and the record he had been playing ended. "Come on – hurry!"

"No!" The small British girl pushed against Brenda's hands, fruitfully blocking her attempts to try and push her towards a harness while Frypan and Teresa took the plunge. "No – I-I can't do it, I'm afraid of heights! I can't!"

"Inka, come on love," Newt grabbed the girl by the waist and forced her into position behind Minho, who grabbed his harness and pushed off the edge of the wall only to go flying down the rope in the direction of the building himself. "We've got to go – there's no time. I'll be right behind you."

The girl gave one final nod and steeled herself, jaw clenching as she accepted that there was no other option if they wanted to survive. With a string of curses she attached herself to the harness and pushed herself off of the edge, going flying down the rope where she could spot Minho about forty meters ahead. Although her brain screamed out in terror the whole time, she convinced herself not to look down at the ground below her and clenched her jaw so tightly she was certain she could see spots because of the sheer pressure she was exerting with her teeth. The zip line seemed to propel her towards the building at hyper speed, causing her to cry out in fear when the rubble grew closer and closer by the millisecond. She could spot Jorge, Minho and Frypan's figures as they waved their arms and motioned as if they were preparing to catch her, but as soon as the zip line entered the hole in the building's wall Inka dropped from her harness herself and stumbled across the floor.

"Shit!" She exclaimed as she tried to slow her momentum as to not fall over. "Holy hell!"

"Inka – careful!" Minho tried to lunge at her as to tug her away from where she was standing, but he was too late and the girl barely spun around too late to realize that Newt's body had let go of his own harness and was barreling towards her at a very high speed.

"Woah!" His stark shout of warning did nothing to help the situation and the two collided violently, flying back several feet before landing harshly on the ground.

They both cried out in pain as the impact slammed them against each other, Newt's elbow digging into Inka's ribcage and both of their foreheads bashing together. The fall silenced Inka for several seconds as her fall back had knocked the wind out of her, and the only thing she could do was grimace before grunting in discomfort underneath the boy. The two tried and failed to detangle their entangled limbs, the brunt force having shocked their bodies and momentarily rendering them handicapped.

"Fuck," Newt swore as his own faced scrunched up in pain and tried to move his now-sore self off of the body of the smaller girl. Frypan assisted after a moment. "Sorry – sorry!"

"Where's Brenda?" As soon as Jorge noticed his daughter-figure was missing he walked back to the hole in the side of the building the survivors had zip lined through and grasped the edge of it to look back into his own compound from afar.

"She's not behind you?" Frypan looked back at the two empty ropes connected to the building they had zip lined from. "What -"

"Hey!" Newt cried as soon as he and Inka were back up on their feet, looking around the ranks to search for the one friend he knew to be missing. "Thomas is gone!"

"No..." Jorge looked back towards the building in dread, almost as if he knew what fate the two left behind would suffer. "She went back."

"Back where?!" Newt stalked to stand in front of the man, glaring at him viciously and forcing himself not to grasp Jorge at the throat. "What the bloody fuck is happening – where is Thomas?!"

"She went back," Jorge clenched his jaw and moved away from the hole in the wall, causing all of the teenagers to stare towards him in disbelief. "She went back for something. He must have followed..."

"Where?!" Newt grasped the mans lapels this time, fed up with his strange schemes and furious that he could not help his friend back in Jorge's building.

"We don't have any time left," Jorge tore himself from Newt's grasp and began to jog away from the group, towards a stairwell that would lead them down into the scorch and towards the mountains. "We need to leave – now!"

"I'm not moving until you tell me what's going on!" The boy cried, watching as the rest of his friends refused to budge in protest as well.

"Listen to me," Jorge took a threatening step towards the group before holding out a hand and explaining to them what was happening. "Brenda does not do things without good reason – she knows a way out; knows how to survive. She -"

Before Jorge could speak another word however, a large blast could be heard and seven heads snapped in the direction of the man's building. Large orange balls of fire burst from the mainframe of the compound, the detonation shaking the ground beneath their feet and causing several of the survivors to shield their eyes from the sudden light. The resulting blast seemingly destroyed the structure of the warehouse and it began to collapse, caving in on itself as each level crashed into the one below it. It was no doubt that whoever was left in the building would have been dead at that point, and even Janson's helicopter retreated moments later when it realized that the situation was a lost cause. Smoke infected the sky where the fiery explosion had taken place, putting a damper on the survivors' spirits even more as they acknowledged that the loss of their friends was very possible.

"No," Newt breathed in horror, watching with wide eyes as the entire structure fell before their eyes. "No, no, no..."

"She's alive," Jorge assured, eyes shining despite the mass destruction the group had just witnessed. "They both are."

"How would you know that?!" Minho shouted, holding a hand out at the ruined compound in disbelief.

"Because I know her!" Jorge had raised his tone as well, spit flying from his mouth as he fixed the group with a wild look before lowering his tone. "I know her – and if that girl has learned anything from me she will meet us at Zone A."

"Zone A?" Inka scrunched up her face in confusion before shaking her head and scoffing incredulously at Jorge's antics. "Where do you think you're taking us?"

"To Marcus – to safety," Jorge clarified, beginning to dash towards the stairwell where he clambered down the first half flight before being stopped again by the ex-Gladers concerns.

"Who the hell is Marcus?!" Frypan exclaimed in dissatisfaction, growing irritated that this man did not bother to explain what his plan was.

"What is going on?!" Teresa nearly stomped her foot on the ground, already resenting the Hispanic man for having put them through so much as her anger boiled over.

"This is your only chance to get to the Right Arm," Jorge seethed, hand on the railing of the stairs as he glowered up towards the survivors who looked back at him with an equal amount of vigor. "I can safely guarantee your friend will be waiting for you when we get to Marcus. Now – you can stay here and rot, or follow me."

Without waiting for a reply he fled down the flight of stairs, forcing the group to look amongst each other and make a split second decision that they hoped they would not regret. As they tore down the stairs after the estranged man, they hoped that his words held truth and that Thomas would be safe alongside Brenda. They did not know who Marcus was or how he would be able to get them to the Right Arm, but if Brenda knew anything about navigating the tunnels and the scorch they hoped that she would be able to guide Thomas to safety. It was already risky enough that there were cranks roaming the streets and buildings in whatever city lay destroyed around them, but the fact that there were other human beings – possibly working for WCKD and armed with communication devices that could destroy their lives once more at the press of a button – was also a thorn in the survivors' side. Despite all of this however, they followed Jorge down each flight of stairs and passage he led them through, trusting the only person who had truly helped them so far on their journey.


	16. Bertha

**Bertha**

 ** **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.****

"Ow – watch it, Fry!"

"Sorry."

For the last two hours the survivors had been following Jorge in and out of ruined buildings and through alleyways that had once belonged to a giant megacity, trekking along with few words besides complaints when one survivor stepped on another's heel. This time it had been Minho snapping back at his friend, allowing the heat to get to his head as he expressed his annoyance in a rather rude fashion. None of the survivors blamed each other for being this way; the group was exhausted and filthy as they migrated through the rubble that coated the ruined streets following Jorge. The Hispanic man did not speak in between his instructions of how to navigate certain areas of debris, deciding to lead the way in what the ex-Gladers assumed to be a very concerned silence. There was no doubt that Jorge and Brenda shared some kind of bond, as the man's steps had increased in intensity with every hour as they grew further and further away from his abandoned compound mirroring his inner determination to reach the girl.

By this point the group had grown used to the sun, and were pleasantly surprised when Jorge managed to find a shady passage to lead them closer to Zone A – which they still knew nothing about besides that the man named Marcus resided there and that it was the beginning of the road to the Right Arm. No one questioned this information however, and blindly followed Jorge through the paths he somehow remembered like the back of his hand. The six teenagers trailing after the adult man took glimpses around the ruined city as best they could while moving along, squinting up at demolished apartment buildings and curiously peeking through windows if they had the chance. There was a fair risk of encountering cranks, but at one point Jorge thought it was a good idea to warn the survivors that he was carrying weaponry heavy enough to defend the team if they came face to face with the sporadic beasts. This, of course, meant that he was also carrying weaponry heavy enough to slay any of the group if they came onto him, but the survivors chose to ignore the secondhand threat and tried to remain positive.

"Do you think there's a chance a safe place actually exists?" Inka murmured to Newt as soon as the two had fallen into step beside each other. At this point the team was wandering in between large sets of skyscrapers, some of which were collapsed on each other and looking as though they could crumble at any moment.

"For our sake," He grunted as they clambered up a particularly steep slope of rubble, only to grab her arms and help her up a particularly large block of concrete. "I hope so."

The two lapsed into silence after that, although they did not stop assisting each other and their friends through the difficult territory that lay ahead. Several times Jorge had to call out for the group to hurry along, not acknowledging that they did not have as much experience with the land as he had and that they were trying their best to keep up with him despite the mountains of cars paired with fallen buildings. Climbing through these sorts of obstacles required patience and cautiousness, as the risk of injury was a constant threat and Newt could spot about thirty objects within a minute that could have easily impaired him or his friends. For this reason, he was particularly wary when the team traveled through one of the abandoned skyscrapers, watching out for any weak points in the infrastructure and making sure that Jorge was always the first to lead whenever there was a jump or a dangerous maneuver to make.

"We've got a bit left to go," Jorge announced after they had stopped to rest for several minutes. He had only brought one large canteen of water with him, meaning that the drink had to be spared between all seven survivors if they wanted to survive until their arrival at Zone A.

"How much is 'a bit'?" Inka squinted at the man from her place next to Newt, tone uneven as she was still distrustful of him. She was extremely unhappy about the fact that they had lost all of their packs and equipment, knowing fully well that if they were stranded in the scorch once more they would have even less of a chance of survival without the goods they had salvaged.

"About an hour," Jorge responded, rising as he looked towards the path they had to take that seemed to lead towards more apartment blocks. "Closer to the base of the mountains."

Several of the survivors groaned as they lifted themselves onto their feet again, readying their bodies for the road ahead as best they could by stretching their limbs. Any sweaters or scarves they had brung along before they had reached Jorge's compound were gone, leaving them in tank tops and short sleeved shirts that did nothing to protect them against the sun but gave their skin plenty of room to exude sweat. By the time the survivors were a half hour in to the last portion of the dangerous journey to Zone A, they were each covered in a sheer layer of wetness that itched their skin and caused stickiness whenever they bumped into each other.

"Damnit Aris," Frypan got a taste of his own medicine when the skinny boy accidentally stepped on his heels. "Pay attention!"

"Sorry – sorry," The boy muttered in response, too drained to feel guilty as he stumbled back a few steps to try and avoid the incident from happening again.

The other half of the hour passed without events, besides a short several seconds where the group stopped to listen for high pitched screeching in the distance that no doubt belonged to a crank. Thankfully, Jorge announced that the wind must have carried it's noise, setting the group somewhat at ease and leaving them with only curiosity as they made their way into a district of the city which clearly had more recent activity. In fact, it only took ten minutes of walking through chain link fences and abandoned lots to spot the first actual human beings, and the survivors looked around in wonder at the other scraggly faces surrounding them before realizing that the market-like area Jorge was leading them through was Zone A.

Colored clothing had been stripped and hung from various balconies, decorating the bleak streets that seemed to hold a makeshift community. After several seconds of walking however, it was clear that this small society was not at all normal – the people looked a bit too dazed and gaunt to be healthy, and their eyes were all too invasive as they scanned over the new arrivals that had emerged from one of the alleyways. There was no sign of Thomas or Brenda in their suspiciously calm midst, causing the survivor' spirits to dampen once they realized that there was still a large chance that their friends could have perished in the collapse of Jorge's building. Yet, the Hispanic man pressed on, and the group's hope did not fade completely when they noticed his determination once more.

"Here," The man in question ignored all of the weirdness surrounding his team, and instead led them towards the sound of music that was growing closer with every step. He stopped them as soon as they reached a corner, peeking around it quickly before sighing in frustration.

"Listen," He began to explain, fixing the teens with a stern gaze. "I'm going to need your help here – Marcus owns this house; if Thomas and Brenda are in here you're going to need to find them while I shut the whole place down."

"O-owns it?" Inka frowned, listening to the loud bass that could be heard from whatever sort of festivities were occurring inside. "This is an apocalypse – how can you own anything?"

"Believe me," Jorge's eyes connected with hers, holding her stare steadily. "He owns it. Now, there's a back entrance in the next block that we can use to access the club, but you can't be spotted until I get to Marcus. If you can get to Brenda or Thomas keep them safe until I turn the lights on."

"Hold on -" Newt began to hold a hand out in protest of this plan, not knowing what sort of party they were going to encounter nor what sorts of people would be around.

Unfortunately, Jorge had already began to guide them towards the door and clearly wasn't taking anymore questions, as he had consumed all of his concentration on destroying several wooden planks hammered into a door frame. Jorge's grunts and the sound of wood splintering was covered by the ruckus taking place inside the house, and the rest of the group kept a lookout as to watch for any of the strange people that were part of Zone A. The last thing any of the survivors wanted was to be caught in the act of what was clearly breaking and entering in a part of the scorch that seemed very intolerant towards brash and violent actions.

As soon as Jorge managed to get a sufficient amount of planks pried off of the entryway, he crouched down low and led the group through the hole he had made before standing on the other side. Darkness shrouded the team – they appeared to be enveloped in sorts of curtains that hid the back entryway from the party – as they all entered the house, the only noise being the booming base and Jorge's instructions to pair up and spread out amongst the partygoers as to increase their chances of finding Thomas and Brenda. It could have been likely that the two would have gotten lost in this sort of mess, Jorge explained as he told them to stay on the bottom floor and not venture into the upper levels, as Brenda had not met Marcus and did not know about the man's tricks. The survivors did not know what this meant, but were already filled with enough adrenaline to know that if they came face to face with any tricksters they would be able to spot them.

"Don't drink anything!" Was Jorge's last word of advice to the survivors before they all split up. Aris and Frypan reluctantly decided to take the right sector of the festivities, while Minho and Teresa focused on the middle and Newt and Inka took responsibility of the left wing.

As soon as they entered the real house however, they realized that finding the two missing survivors would not be as simple as they had mapped out. The music drowned out any possible thoughts and limited communication to simple waves and touches which did not work so well either, as each separated pair found that they could not see very well in the dark nor focus on what their partner was trying to tell them when dozens of other moving bodies were dancing to the music around them. Inka did not know what tactics the other pairs were using to find their lost friends, but she grew so frustrated and claustrophobic by the heaviness of the air around them and the sheer amount of bodies that packed the room like a sardine can that she eventually grabbed Newt's arm and used that as a successful method of staying close.

The two stayed in their area and ignored the temptation to search the entire home, trusting their friends to navigate the party as best they could despite the heavy smoke and smells that seemed to engulf the room in a damp, dark cloud. Their sweat built up inside the building just as much as it had outside in the burning sunlight, making the situation all the more uncomfortable when Inka realized they had little chance of finding their friends in the mess. The people around them seemed to be in an altered state of mind as they swung and moved themselves to the music in various dazed states. A quick look around the outskirts of the room revealed couches where many guests lay dormant, many too thin for comfort and barely showing signs of life. The search seemed helpless for several long minutes, and both Newt and Inka were beginning to grow uncomfortable and hopeless as they continued to tug each other along different portions of the left-hand side of the house. Several times Newt had to pull Inka away from pairs of disconcertingly friendly gazes, while Inka was slapping away many female's wandering hands that reached over Newt's shoulder and tried to caress his chest over his t-shirt. These people oozed inebriation and all-too intimate touches, rendering the two teenagers feeling rather intimidated and eager to get out of the situation as fast as possible. They were ready to back out and head towards the secret entrance they had come through near the back of the home when their luck changed completely.

"Here!" Suddenly, Inka's ears managed to latch onto what seemed to be Teresa's voice from not too far away, and she tugged Newt in the direction of the girl's cry.

It took them a bit of searching, but as soon as they reached the pair – one of which being Thomas who was lying on the ground unconscious and looking very sick – the dark area surrounding them became flooded with light and Jorge's voice was booming throughout the house.

"EVERYONE OUT!" He roared through the megaphone, the noise echoing off the walls and causing many of the people in the room to cover their ears in shock while they tried to cover their eyes at the same time. "OUT!"

It did not take any more threats to get the droves of people filing out through whatever exits they could find – whether they were windows or doors that the survivors could not spot as they tried to avoid getting caught in the current of people escaping the building. The residents of Zone A seemed more and more like mice than anything, Inka thought to herself as she watched hundreds of them scurry out of the house as fast as they could; vermin that spread sickness and disease amongst the healthy.

"We found Brenda!" Aris could be seen from several meters away tugging the slightly dazed girl behind him as Frypan followed, both of them ducking out of the way whilst some last half-asleep looking stragglers stumbled by them.

The group of eight moved towards the sound of Jorge's voice as soon as the house was cleared – Minho and Frypan carrying Thomas' body as he had still not gained consciousness yet – deciding that it was in their best interest to reconvene with him and move out of Zone A as soon as possible. They had most likely overstayed their welcome and were not looking forward to spending any more time in the area, especially when they realized just what sorts of people were hanging about.

"Jorge!" Teresa called as soon as she spotted him stepping out of a small room with another strangely dressed man in tow, looking rather livid. The group stopped in shock as Jorge shoved him up against the wall and laid a punch on his face before picking up some rope left behind on the floor and tying the man's hands up.

"Jorge..." Teresa repeated herself, assuming that their temporary leader had not heard his name being called the first time. The man looked up at them in surprise as if he had been caught up in his own world of thought, relief coating his face as soon as he spotted Brenda.

"You found them!" He rushed over to the girl as soon as he had shoved the roped-up man into a nearby chair, embracing her and checking her for injury. "What happened – did you drink anything?"

"Yeah..." Brenda shook her head shamefully, seemingly trying to clear her thoughts as Jorge cupped her cheeks and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Did you find Marcus?"

Jorge's face fell immediately, and he dropped his hands from Brenda's face only to swivel around and face the man that he had tied up moments ago. At this point the house was rather quiet save for the grunts that Frypan and Minho gave as they set Thomas down in a corner, so Jorge decided to fill the silence by explaining that the man who sat in the centre of the room on his own plush chair was Marcus himself. The owner of the home gave a small sarcastic smile as he was introduced, nose bleeding profusely as Jorge had already done a number on his face. The Hispanic man quickly moved forward and gathered more rope off of the ground – various peculiar items that one would have otherwise not found lay strewn about the house as if Marcus was some sort of strange hoarder – to tie the perpetrator to his chair.

"Everyone sit..." Jorce instructed the group as he stalked around the chair that he had roped Marcus to, jaw clenching in fury. "We will be here for awhile."

The survivors sat on the scattered furniture around the room, knowing that they would be stopped until Jorge pried necessary information out of Marcus that was needed to move the survivors along to safety. The man seemed to have ill intentions with the group already, putting Jorge in a sour mood and readying him for a difficult interrogation. It did not help that Thomas' brain had chosen that exact moment to rise itself out of it's unconsciousness, and he woke with a start only to find Teresa – who had situated herself near his position in the corner to watch over him – looking down at him in concern.

"Thomas," Teresa soothed, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder and smirking slightly. "Hey – you okay? Hi...we have to stop meeting like this."

"Welcome back, you ugly shank!" Suddenly Minho was standing over Teresa's shoulder, grinning down at a very grumpy looking Thomas.

The boy sat up with a slight grunt of pain, face pale and eyes significantly darker as he felt the after-effects of whatever hallucinogenic drink he had ingested earlier in the day. He slowly sat up and took a gander around the brightly lit room that had once been filled with moving, gyrating bodies and spotted every single one of his friends – very much alive and not infected whatsoever as his hallucinations had showed him – sitting on various couches or crouching on furniture. This included Brenda, who had situated herself on a couch not far away from Jorge who was looking to be questioning the same man who had forced them to drink whatever horrid substance was making him feel so wretched at the moment. Thomas chose not to speak of the moment they had shared whilst under the influence of the mysterious substance mere minutes ago – or so it seemed; Thomas had no concept of what hour it was as all he could see was daylight streaming in through a window not far from where he had been placed.

Suddenly, Jorge let out a cry and Thomas' attention was quickly diverted back towards the man.

"I suggest you talk, you son of a bitch!" Jorge struck the man across the face pulling an agonized cry from him, and it was at this point that Thomas realized the man receiving the beating was tied up to a chair to restrict his movement.

"I'm sorry," The roped up man smiled patronizingly up at Jorge, face swollen and bloody thanks to the Hispanic man's interrogation tactics. "You're going to have to leave my house."

Thomas took several shaky steps over to the couch where Aris, Newt and Inka sat, regarding the three cautiously as Inka winced with Jorge's next blow.

"Looks like you've been having fun," Newt looked up at his friend rather strangely as he approached, still unsure as to why him and Brenda had been passed out on the floor after having been found.

"Listen," Jorge redirected Thomas' startled gaze towards his altercation with the tied-up man in the chair before he could respond to Newt's question. "I don't enjoy hurting you – okay? Where is the Right Arm, Marcus?"

"Wait," Thomas clarified with a frown before Jorge could get another word in edgewise, anger bubbling over as he realized he and Brenda had been duped. "This is Marcus?"

The man strapped to the chair gave a hearty laugh, snorting at the end as he shook his head towards Thomas who was looking more and more upset by the second. He and Brenda had suffered at the hands of this ridiculously clothed idiot of a man, who was sitting there laughing at them while he received a beating simply because Thomas had just realized the fact that they had been tricked.

"That kid catches on quick," Marcus drawled, tone even more condescending as it had been before. "Hey – are you the brains of the operation?"

Marcus was quickly silenced when Jorge pulled his hair back and made the man look at him once more, refocusing the interrogation on him so that he could pull out the answers the group needed to keep moving.

"I know," He growled, tugging on the man's thin hair one more time and managing to get an uncomfortable groan from him. "You know where they are hiding. So you tell me, and I'll make you a deal; you can come with us."

The survivors sitting around the couches looked at each other uncertainly as Marcus giggled, not liking that Jorge was quick to pull the trigger on 'making deals'. These sorts of agreements had haunted them enough already, as Janson's promise of 'safety' had involved secretly sucking the life force out of them and Ava Paige's wonderful 'initiative' to cure the planet of the Sun Flare virus had landed them in an artificial tank for three years being hunted by alien-like killing machines.

"I burned that bridge a long time ago. Besides, I make my own deals," Marcus glared up at Jorge out of one non-swollen eye as he began to explain. "You're the one who taught me to never miss an opportunity."

"What's he talking about?" Newt quickly clarified, not understanding the beaten man's excuses as to why he could not deliver the information the group was seeking.

"I'm talking about supply and demand," Marcus began to finally explain slowly, fixing all of the kids with an eerie smile and giggling yet again. "WCKD wants all the immunes they can get; I help provide that for them. So, I lure kids in...they get drunk, they have a good time, and then later WCKD comes in and they separate the wheat from the chaff."

There was a beat of silence when the entire room realized just what this man was telling them, and then a very angry Jorge was quickly on Marcus once more. The sneaky trickster of a man tried to shy away from Jorge's oncoming attack, but could not avoid the punch and groaned again before the Hispanic man kicked his chair over and sent him toppling towards the ground.

"I changed my mind hermano," Jorge seethed, grabbing a gun out of his pack and straddling Marcus so that he could press the weapon against his disfigured face. "I do enjoy hurting you. Talk, TALK!"

"Okay – okay, Jesus!" Marcus seemed to understand that he was truly in danger at this point, and quivered as he spit out more information. "But I'm not making any promises – these guys like to move around."

Frypan assisted Jorge as the man lifted Marcus' chair upwards once more, not wanting to remain in his crouched position on the ground but still wielding the gun in case the sleazeball of a man tried any funny business.

"They have an outpost in the mountains," Marcus shifted uncomfortably under all of the gazes that were now glaring at him, putting him under pressure to respond faster. "But it's a long way away. You got half of WCKD on your ass; you're never gonna make it."

"Not on foot," Jorge agreed in relief, mapping the road route that Zone A connected to in his head and slapping his hands against Marcus' chest as his eyes lit up. "Where's Bertha?"

Suddenly, Marcus' face fell as he pleaded for the first time with the man in front of him. "Not Bertha..."

"That's all we need," Jorge shook his head and grinned as he began to pick up his pack and back away from Marcus. "You kids are coming for a ride."

"A ride?" Newt rose quickly, looking towards the man in confusion as he began to lead the team out the door and down the staircase.

"You'll see!" Jorge ignored Marcus' cries of complaint as the last survivor filed out the door behind him, not bothering to untie the scumbag of a man who had become a slave to the dreadful organization they were trying to escape.

"Where are we going?" Thomas tried to pull an answer out of the Hispanic man who was leading them out of the home moments later and out the back entrance. Quickly checking for any of the partygoers that had filed out of the house minutes earlier, he darted across the back alleyway and through another passage that lead to a large empty lot.

"And who's Bertha?" Inka contributed to the pool of questions as Jorge stalked over to one of the garage pods and pulled the door upwards. "Wh – oh, yes!"

The group was left speechless as a large station wagon was revealed, existing in relatively good condition and set with a pair of giant horns on it's front end. Some of the team gaped at the vehicle, not expecting to see something like it before being pushed along by Jorge who quickly pulled open the back and began to stock gasoline canisters and electrical equipment into it.

Newt and Inka headed for the front seat at the same time, smiling slightly when they realized the triple seating on the front seat and sliding in with Jorge.

The rest of the survivors piled in all at once, filling in the seats in the rest of the vehicle as Jorge made sure the car's tank was full and rapidly pulled out of the garage. None of the group had known that he had driving skills, but assumed that as a survivor of the Sun Flare he had had a relatively normal life before the apocalypse had occurred and had most likely driven. His motor skills seemed to be fairly advanced, as he guided the car through areas of rubble and managed to find an open road in a very small time span.

As soon as he had successfully pulled away from the apartment blocks and increased the speed so that the car was flying along the highway, Jorge grinned back at the youths who still looked a little bit uncertain to be in an actual moving car. The only ones grinning back were Newt and Inka, who seemed rather removed from the present situation and more preoccupied with the fact that they had not encountered – or could not remember – a working car before. It took several minutes of Jorge's driving for anyone to say anything, and surprisingly the first was Inka.

"Could I try?" She shyly looked over at the controls on the vehicle and felt a twinge of familiarity, fingers tingling as they itched to grasp the knobs.

"You want to?" Jorge seemed surprised, but considering that he was in a good mood he let the emotions get the best of him and quickly gave the girl a run down of the operating system. "Why not? You might use it in the future, and we have some time."

Brenda smiled at her father figure's decision, knowing that it was best that the entire car heard his instructions as they never knew when the information would come in handy one day. Working cars were hard to come by, yes, but any knowledge was useful when it came to surviving the scorch.

"Alright – the left is the clutch – it disengages when you push it to the floor, and you press that down when you start the car and use it to change gears. You have to pull it in when you brake. The middle is the brake; you know what that's for," Jorge took one hand off the wheel to point at the middle pedal while Inka tried to spot what he was talking about. "And the right is the gas – you use that to accelerate."

"Now," He continued, pointing at the stick shift that he put a hand on to demonstrate the next portion of driving. "When you want to change gears, the clutch comes up and the gas pedal goes down while you change numbers on this knob." He motioned to the stick shift once more. "When you want to downshift, it's the same thing backwards. I'd recommend second gear if you need a workhorse, and 'R' of course, is reverse."

Inka's eyes were focused as she tried to absorb all of the information at once, nodding tightly when she understood the process Jorge was trying to describe. There was no guaranteeing that she would be good at it, but it was worth giving it a shot, and her heart beat wildly in her chest as Jorge pulled the car over to give her a shot at it. The engine was shut off as Inka and Jorge switched seats, placing her in the driver's position and him in the middle. The rest of the survivors stared on anxiously, unsure if Inka's driving was going to be as safe and up to par with Jorge's.

"Alright – make sure it's in first gear," Jorge instructed after giving her the keys, watching as she pressed down the clutch and guiding her through the process. "Press down on the clutch, and turn the ignition key. Remember your left foot controls the clutch, and your right foot controls the brake and the gas."

Inka frowned as she looked down at the pedals underneath her feet, nodding as she got a feel for them and gently started the car.

"Ok," Jorge nodded as the engine rumbled to life, preparing for the next several steps. "Release the clutch and press the gas pedal at the same time, but don't -"

There was a jerk and a squeak of tires as Inka performed the action too quickly, and the rest of the survivors gasped out in surprise as the whole vehicle lurched forward a foot. Newt found that his stomach had wound into a tight knot, unsure if he felt safe with Inka behind the wheel. The engine died out as soon as her small mistake was over, and Jorge quickly leaned over to help her.

"That's called stalling," He patiently assisted in turning the engine off and back on again, letting her try from the beginning. "Go again – this time slowly. Don't accelerate too fast."

Inka repeated the process and this time successfully moved the car forward several meters, smiling as she did so and watching the speedometer on the dashboard of the vehicle. Jorge guided her through upshifting once again, reminding her that she needed to press the clutch down when she wanted to increase gears and release it slowly afterwards as to not stall. This took the girl several tries to get a hang of, and by the third time she stalled the survivors around her were also guiding her through the process.

"Try going up to second," Minho leaned over Newt's seat as he spied on Inka's progress after starting up the engine.

"Hold on," She muttered, frowning as she focused on the pattern of steps once more from the first gear. Jorge had also been patient with her, letting her get the feel of it just the same as he had allowed Brenda several tries when he had taught her to drive. "Come on, Bertha."

"Easy..." Newt reminded, watching as Inka's leg moved to press down the clutch pedal and her thin fingers shifted up to the second gear.

"Now the gas..." Jorge muttered, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched Inka get it right. "There you go!"

Inka grinned as she gently released the clutch and the car responded well to her movements, rewarding her with a smooth ride as the engine hummed peacefully and the team moved along the straight road once more. The long open highway was perfect for learning, and gave lots of opportunities for testing speeds without many obstacles in the way. It was clear that not many people had bothered to try and escape the Solar Flare when it had struck the earth, that or it had struck too quick for them to try and get away from.

"How about third?" Thomas prompted as he and Aris shared a smile after she had driven in that second gear for awhile, also peeking over the driver's seat.

"Careful!" Teresa squeaked as Brenda let out a laugh, finally feeling the mood in the air as she remembered what it had been like to learn to drive. "Don't go too fast!"

"She's right," Frypan reminded the group of Inka's particularly bad decision-making history back in the Glade as Jorge fruitfully watched over her movements. "The she-bean's not known for making safe decisions!"

"Oh, shove it!" Inka's cheeks turned pink as she upshifted once more, finally feeling the process grow on her as if she was welcoming back an old friend into her home. This caused Newt to smile along with the rest of the group, as he liked to watch her enjoy herself and knew that although the world around them had crumbled, moments between friends like these were proof that humanity had not been completely destroyed.

"Would you like to keep driving?" Jorge offered the girl, finding her smile infectious and growing on him after she nodded at his offer. "I'll guide."

He instructed her on turning briefly, explaining to her that it was a bad idea to jerk the wheel and that she needed to make slow turns. Thankfully there were no downhills, as Jorge knew that she would not have enough experience to navigate those and did not want to overwhelm the girl without more practice. She seemed to be a natural after her first couple slip ups, comfortably changing gears and keeping both hands on the steering wheel as her steely grey eyes locked onto the road ahead. Newt also found himself staring towards the girl as the rest of the group relaxed behind him, eyes running over her small form and latching on the smile that played on her lips. She seemed to be rather relaxed for a first time driver, something that surprised him and made him wonder if she had driven in the past. This presumption was quickly shut out upon his realization that there would not have been much of a chance to control vehicles if they had been taken by WCKD at a relatively young age, and especially not if they had been kept hostage in a facility that wanted to keep them contained.

"Careful on this turn," Jorge's voice distracted Newt, and he tore his eyes off of Inka's face back towards the mountains ahead of him that were now right in front of the vehicle. The road took a right and Inka made the turn smoothly, having lowered the gear back into second as Jorge had suggested.

"Just follow this road – steady now," The man was more careful in this portion of the drive, as he knew that the possibility of cranks and other survivors was a risk that they were taking.

As it turned out, Inka would not get to drive for much longer as after the next several turns she took the car was faced with a large pileup of vehicles ahead. The machinery in front of them effectively blocked the route from any incoming traffic, and with a frown Inka stopped the vehicle several feet away from the upturned cars. The group clambered out of Bertha, looking around the highway dubiously as they realized that they were in much more danger on foot than in a moving vehicle.

"I guess we're on foot," Jorge sighed, fixing the road ahead with a suspicious gaze as he began to lead the survivors through the wrecks of cars.

As they made their way up the road, several of the group found themselves rummaging through the vehicles to find supplies or weapons that they knew they would need in the future, but generally found nothing besides blankets. It was not until Thomas spotted a peculiar looking mark on one of the destroyed cars that he began to grow suspicious and look around the mountaintops nervously.

"What is that?" Inka turned towards the sound of distant clicking noises.

"What's what?" Thomas paused his inspection of the bullet mark in a car window shield only to duck down seconds later when a bullet hit the hood of the car inches away from him.

"Shit!" He exclaimed, covering his head to best shield himself.

"Get down!" Inka pushed Minho and Newt behind a car as soon as Thomas had been fired at, only to yell out in warning at the rest of the group who were already scrambling to duck behind cars. "DOWN!"

The group realized they were separated as soon as the echo of the bullet faded away into the sky, all hidden behind their respective cars that shielded them from the wrath of any more bullets.

"Is everyone okay out there?!" Thomas shouted out, heart beating frantically as he tried to get over the sensation of being shot at once more.

"Anyone know where those bloody shots came from?!" Newt cried out to no avail, realizing that the sharpshooters could have been anyone – and that category also fit WCKD.

One of the other survivors must have popped their head over their respective car hoods to check if they could see the location of any of the culprits of the shooting, because another shot fired out seconds later and made each of the survivors jump. Newt knew it had been Thomas as soon as he heard the boy swear and ask Jorge what they were going to do.

"Snipers," Inka shook her head as she breathed hard, trying to calm herself down. "At least they're not very good snipers."

She could hear Jorge muttering something to Thomas about Marcus having set them up for something, but did not know what was going on until the man explained what he wanted the group to do.

"Everybody!" He cried out, sounding very collected for someone who was in their current predicament. "Get set to sprint back to the truck – and hold your ears! Ready?"

"Oh no..." Inka grimaced, knowing fully well now Jorge had a taste for explosives and that he was planning on creating some sort of wacky diversion. "No – no..."

"Drop it. Now."

The unidentified female voice caused Inka to turn around abruptly, and she was met with two women – one dark skinned holding a rifle with a scope attached to it and dreadlocks hanging down to her waist, and the other blond holding a significantly larger weapon that Inka appreciated rather well despite the fact that it was being wielded against her at the moment. Both wore masks that covered half their faces, eyes sharp and angry as they regarded the group of nine. Inka was not sure which one had issued the command, but whoever these women were it was clear that they were part of the battalion that had been firing against them and most definitely _not_ WCKD.

"I said drop it!" The dark skinned girl cried, clearly being the spokesperson of the pair. "On your feet. Let's go – let's go!"

Thomas and Jorge, having been the two behind the first car that the girls encountered, rose with their arms raised upwards in a show of surrender. The rest of the survivors followed as the women barked for them to get up and back up, not looking the least bit surprised to see other women just like them in the group of survivors. Then, all of a sudden, the dark skinned female stopped and lowered her weapon.

"Aris?" She pulled down her mask to reveal a pair of plump lips and a rather smooth visage, wrinkled as she gazed towards the skinny boy in relief.

"Oh my god," Aris moved past Brenda and Teresa, who were looking rather shocked along with the rest of the group as he went to go embrace the girl. "Harriet?! Sonya?!"

"What are you doing here?" The woman, who had now been identified as Harriet, questioned him as they both pulled away from their hug. The other woman, now having been dubbed Sonya, also gave him a hug as the three touched each other's faces.

"You're lucky we didn't shoot your dumb ass!" She exclaimed, holding his cheeks and touching his shoulders as if she did not believe it was really Aris. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," He gave a short nod and a small huff before turning to introduce the group of survivors.

"Uh - what's happening?" Minho frowned before Aris could get another word in, having shared unsure glances with Inka and Newt before speaking.

"We were in the maze together," Aris explained, reigniting the flame of memory in the survivors' minds as they remembered that there had been multiple mazes. It was good to see survivors out of more than one group – it showed that there was hope even when hundreds of kids were still stuck back at Janson's base. It also showed that the survivors' hard work had not been useless, causing hope to flood in their hearts.

Harriet suddenly let out a loud whistle towards the tops of the peaks that surrounded the road, waving her arms around before shouting up at invisible forces. "We're clear, guys! Come on out!"

Then, one by one as the survivors watched, heads began to pop up out of the brush and human figures – not twisted like a crank's or heavily armored like those of soldiers – could be seen. It caused a vast amount of relief to fall upon the group, as their worries of becoming targets faded away and the new objective to find out who these people were came to mind.

"People," Inka breathed out in astonishment, her eyes lighting up as she lowered her hands and looked up at the dozens of figures sprouting up out of rocks above them before turning to Newt in relief. "Mountain people."

"Mountain people," He repeated, sharing a grin with her as they realized that Thomas' words several days ago had spoken truths. "We made it."


	17. Arrival

**Arrival**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.**

The survivors were lead further up the road they had been apprehended on, still slightly uncertain as to who exactly the women they were following were. It was obvious they were no friends of WCKD, but at this point in the journey it was hard to know who they could trust anymore. Even Jorge had proven himself to have a price; the team had not forgotten his comment of 'owing him' whilst he had been assisting them during their escape from his compound. These thoughts were shoved in the backs of their minds however, when they approached a large stone tunnel with a giant gasoline rig blocking the other side and one of the women who had recognized Aris from his maze piped up.

"Back it up, Joe!" Sonya cried as she led the group through the natural stone overhang.

"Got it!" A voice cried back from afar, and as soon as the rig at the end of the shaft began to shift out of the way the survivors realized that there were more humans on the other side. Survivors just like them walked by wielding large assault rifles and fixing them with strange glances, whilst others sat in cars that seemed as though they had been plucked out of a military compound.

"We're taking these guys to base," Sonya nodded towards a tall man wearing an orange hat, keeping the ex-Gladers moving as they walked towards a wide grey vehicle positioned at the end of the line of cars.

"The Right Arm got us out," Harriet answered the unspoken question as she held her hand on the hinge of the door, ready to open it for the group. "We protect the roads in case WCKD decides to come by and snoop."

"W-wait," Thomas stopped her, frowning as he tried to understand where this whole resistance had originated from. "The Right Arm? Do you know where they are?"

"Hop in," Harriet smirked in response, swinging the car's door open and watching the survivors pile in after giving each other uneven glances. If this girl was telling the truth, things could finally change, but if she was lying they ran a risk of starting their journey all over again.

After some internal debating – each survivor knew this was their only chance at the real Right Arm – the group loaded themselves into the vehicle and the engine hummed to life, reminding Inka of mere minutes ago when she had been driving Bertha. She thought back to the peaceful ride, missing it already and wishing that she was the one in control of the car's movements instead of whatever resistance fighter was at the wheel at the moment. Another military vehicle tailed them as soon as the truck took off, and the convoy began to speed along more mountain roads until the ground finally leveled out and shrubbery could be spotted.

"Look!" Inka nudged Newt from her position next to the window, and his breath fanned onto her cheek when he gazed out the glass panel himself. "A bush!"

"Here too!" Frypan nearly grinned in relief, glad to see the green even as tinted by brown as it was and reveling along with the rest of the group in the car. "Grass!"

It took several minutes for the pair of cars to travel along the dirt path that took them to the final encampment, but when the trucks finally cleared the last long hill they came to a slow rumbling stop. This allowed the survivors to gape in utter disbelief at first, shocked to see the large collection of tents sheltered by the canyons out of the windshield of the vehicle they have been moving in, before actually getting themselves up off of their seats and out of the car. Jorge and Brenda were not strangers to this many people, causing them to be less surprised when they saw the sheer amount of rebels crowded around the tents that lay in clumps before them, but the rest of the ex-Gladers still could not formulate words. Not many turned to the new arrivals in curiosity, but all nine sets of the survivor's eyes were on the Right Arm as they watched several fighters eat, check weapons and even hug. It was a whole other community; one that held answers.

Inka found herself shivering uncontrollably due to the cold alongside her friends as they moved towards the encampment and away from the vehicles, following Harriet who explained to them that the Right Arm had been organizing itself for a year, and that it was all for the survivors. The girl also explained how lucky they were to have arrived so late, as the Right Arm was 'moving out' the next morning to presumably relocate as a standard precaution. As much as Inka appreciated the fact that they had found help and were about to truly become safe for the first time in a long time, she did not feel particularly lucky whatsoever. In fact, the girl could not relate to the word itself besides acknowledging that she had been lucky to have met her friends. Without them, she would not be where she was standing at the moment and without them she would not have had the willpower or motivation necessary to move on.

"Where's Vince?" Harriet questioned one of the passersby the group crossed on their way towards the tents.

"Somewhere over there, I think," The man pointed towards a large tent that looked to be at the head of them all, colored a strange shade of brown unlike the rest of the yellow canvases laid about.

"Who's Vince?" Thomas immediately questioned, trying to keep up with Harriet's pace as the rest of the shivering group trailed behind.

"He's the one who decides if you get to stay," Sonya explained simply from her place beside Aris, shrugging as if it was not the largest deal in the world that there was a slim chance the new survivors would not be cleared to stay at the encampment.

"I thought that Right Arm was supposed to be an army?" Minho piped up, looking around uncertainly as he realized that this community lacked any aspects of government institution. It seemed to be run simply by the washed up citizens that had been left behind in the scorch, which was not a problem at all, but the oriental boy found himself increasingly concerned that there was no higher power aside from WCKD trying to fight for the light. Was this all that there was?

"Yeah – we were." A deep, gruff voice called out from one of the sidelines causing the group to stop and look for it's holder.

A large, shabby looking man that appeared to hold more fat than muscle on his body – besides in his arms, which bulged outwards and looked almost comically large – stepped out from underneath a cloth overhang that had been strung up to mimic a washing station for clothing and pots. This man was presumably Vince, as Harriet had stopped walking and was instead looking up at the redhead with a sort of anticipating gleam in her eye.

"This is all that's left of us," The man continued, stalking over to the front of the group while another resistance fighter trailed behind wielding a large assault rifle. "A lot of good people died getting us this far."

There was a moment of silence as the new survivors watched Vince place his hands on his hips, none of them knowing what to say although each of them was practically bursting with questions. What had happened? Why was this 'all that was left'? Had WCKD taken anyone back? And more importantly, were they really safe here if this man was speaking of previous attacks that had clearly damaged an already dwindling population of survivors?

"Who are they?" Vince questioned before any of them could speak.

"They're immunes," Harriet explained, having joined his position at the front of the group and looking the group over with a slight smirk. "We caught them coming up the mountain."

"Did you check them?" Vince's next question was on point, firing off his tongue as soon as Harriet mentioned the mountain. Inka could only assume the man meant weapons, but it was also plausible that he was checking for communication devices, or infections that any of the group may have been carrying.

"I know this guy – Aris," Harriet pointed towards the skinny boy standing in between Frypan and Newt, who merely stared back towards Vince with wide eyes. "I trust him."

"Well I don't. Alright Dom," Vince grunted, ignoring Harriet's explanation as to why she had not screened the survivors before bringing them up to the encampment, and motioned for his friend behind him to move forward. "Check 'em."

"'Ey boss..." One of the other rebels flanking the group spoke up in what sounded like concern before Dom could do anything, and the survivors turned towards the speaker only to catch sight of Brenda gasping for air like a fish out of water. Her eyes were wide and red around the edges, rolling up into her head as her entire form began to collapse.

"Shit!" Inka ducked out of the way only to watch the girl fall to the ground in front of her, blackened lips wheezing and body squirming as if something was alive inside of her. "Brenda?!"

"Brenda!" Jorge immediately dove to the girl's side on the ground, holding her up and trying to get her to communicate. "Brenda?! Brenda! Brenda...talk to me!"

"I'm sorry," She could be heard repeating as she stopped convulsing and began to clutch Jorge's arms surrounding her weakly. The rest of the survivors crowded around her, not knowing how to help or where this reaction had come from. She had seemed fine up to this point, and had not mentioned illness or injury – why now was she like this?

"What's happened?" Vince had also lowered himself onto the ground, touching Jorge on the shoulder in concern as he tried to evaluate the situation. "What's going on with her?"

"I don't know!" The Hispanic man was panicking, trying to support Brenda as best he could and getting her to focus on him. "Brenda! Brenda?!"

"What the hell..." Suddenly, Vince spotted a cloth wrapped around the struggling girl's ankle, and he pulled it up only to rear back in shock. "Oh, SHIT!"

The man pulled a pistol out of his holster faster than the speed of light, cocking it and holding it out towards Brenda.

"Crank! We got a crank!" He hollered, causing all action in the encampment to stop as rebels backed away and drew their weapons as well. "Everybody step away!"

"No – no, no!" Jorge cried, shielding Brenda with his body as he realized what was about to happen. "Wait, wait!"

"Stop!" Thomas cried, rearing forward as he held on his hands. It took a couple seconds until it clicked in the rest of the survivors' heads that not all of the people residing in this resistance camp were immunes. They were violent because they were scared themselves, and although it was frightening to know that about two hundred guns were ready to fire at the moment the new arrivals' understood the risks.

"Step back!" Vince was crying to his comrades, motioning for Sonya and Harriet to stay away as well. "Step back!"

"Just listen – listen to me," Thomas pleaded with the man, approaching him yet again with outstretched arms as the rest of his friends held their hands up. As soon as he acknowledged that Vince was going to give him a chance to speak, the boy began talking. "Okay – look, it just happened okay? She's not dangerous yet."

Thomas vaguely registered Jorge's small sobs as he realized what Brenda had not told him, and refused to accept the fate that her death was a very real possiblity.

"Well," Vince spluttered indignantly, still holding out his pistol towards Brenda as he shouted. "You shouldn't have brought her here!"

"I know... I-"

"If we let cranks in here now the safe haven doesn't last a week!" Vince shook his head, interrupting Thomas as he lowered his gun and prepared to fight his way to the infected girl. He was not going to risk the entire encampment for one new arrival, and Vince couldn't care less if it meant the group's heartbreak. "So step back!"

"Let me go!" Jorge suddenly cried, having been ripped away from Brenda by two resistance fighters. This caused some attention to be drawn away from her struggling form as Inka felt her heart rip in two at the sight of the sick woman, and she abruptly fell to her knees to cradle the girl's head.

"Brenda," She tried to catch the attention of the woman underneath her, pulling her head up and placing it on her knees as she grasped her cheeks. "Brenda? Can you hear me?"

"Get her away!" Vince cried, motioning towards Inka with his pistol but being intercepted by Thomas once more.

"Stop!" Thomas caught the large man's attention for what he hoped was the last time. "I understand. Just-just listen to me, please. Please – okay?"

"No!" Vince shook his head, not wanting to hear any begging and trying to step his way forward once more so that he could reach Brenda, who was not being shielded by Inka but merely being held by her. At this point Vince did not care if the blood splattered against the other immune woman; he merely wanted to eliminate the only thing that was threatening the vital community around him at this moment.

"I told her you could help..." Thomas pushed, not letting the man past him and trying to plead with him instead. "There's gotta be something you can do."

"Yeah, there is," Vince responded, clicking the safety off of his gun as he numbed himself to prepare for the shot. "I can put her out of her misery."

"No!"

Several voices cried the word at once, but the most prominent was a new female voice that forced her way through the crowd and pushed past Vince. A woman around the age of thirty stepped out from behind the large man, ordering for his teammates to release Jorge and forcing Vince to lower his weapon. At the sight of her the entire camp visibly relaxed slightly, making Thomas narrow his eyes as he stared at the woman.

"She's infected doc," Vince growled, still glaring towards Brenda where the girl was gasping in the arms of Inka who was trying her best to keep the girl focused on her voice. "There's nothing we can do for her."

"No," The doctor shook her head, eyes shining as she stared around the new survivors only to lock her gaze on Thomas. "But he can. Hello Thomas."

"What?" The boy froze in shock, blinking rapidly as he took a step towards the woman. The entire camp was still silent, watching the events that were taking place through narrowed eyes. "You know me?"

At this point even Inka raised her head up from where Brenda's pupils had briefly connected with hers to stare at Thomas in shock. At this point at least three people had recognized Thomas during the Gladers' journey to safety, causing his group to grow even more curious about his role in this huge plot that WCKD had gotten their lives entangled in. They stared at the boy warily once more, having been reminded that they knew next to nothing about their pasts and although Thomas' actions in the last month spoke for themselves, whatever he had done prior to the maze had clearly helped trigger this landslide of events.

"Interesting..." The doctor muttered before taking a step forward towards Thomas as well. "It makes sense they put you in the maze."

Before the boy could reply however, the doctor made her way towards Brenda and began to kneel towards the girl. This caused Inka to react harshly, and she threw herself over Brenda's body to shield the girl alongside Jorge who looked just as surprised to see her reaction as the doctor. There was a beat of silence as Inka's eyes connected with the medical professional's, and she swore that she could spot a hint of familiarity between them before the woman assured her that she was not going to hurt Brenda. It took a second for Inka to back off of the other girl, but as soon as she did the doctor took Brenda's wrist into her hand and began to check her vital signs rather calmly.

"I must admit," She turned up to Thomas once more. "I thought they'd kill you after what you did."

"W-what I did...?" Thomas looked baffled, and almost reluctant to step another foot towards the doctor. The door of answers was finally opening, and he was not sure if he wanted to see what was on the other side.

"The first time you spoke to me you said you couldn't take it anymore," The doctor began, feeling Brenda's forehead and locking eyes with a very concerned Jorge before turning back to Thomas. "Watching your friends die one by one."

Beside her, Inka let out a small gasp before silencing herself and looking up towards Thomas with widened eyes. The rest of his friends did the same, revealing their understanding that even before the maze, Thomas had felt compassion for their well-being whilst he had been testing them.

"The last time we spoke," The doctor continued, a small smile eating away at her face while she looked up towards Thomas as if she was proud of him. "You gave me the coordinates of every WCKD compound, trial and lab."

"He was our source," Vince muttered incredulously, staring towards Thomas as well as the rest of his friends and the surrounding crowd.

"And we couldn't have pulled all of this off without him," The doctor let her smile shine fully for a moment as small tears welled in her eyes, memories of the moments months earlier clear as day. She owed her abandonment from WCKD and the creation of the Right Arm to Thomas, who had given her not only the means but the strength necessary to defect. The doctor quickly gulped down a sob before turning back towards Brenda, deciding that the girl needed tending to as soon as possible and that her and Thomas' conversation could wait until later.

"Get her to the tent," She nodded towards Jorge and a shivering Inka, who began to lift Brenda up gently and without protest while the doctor looked towards the rest of the group. "And get these guys some warm clothes."

As she helped lift Brenda towards the medical tent, providing support to the girl's shoulders and head, Inka swore that she could see the doctor look towards her one last time with a certain...sadness? She could not place the emotion that was being shown to her, but it seemed as though the woman had a few secrets of her own as well. She could feel Newt's eyes on her as she followed the woman back towards the tent, listening as she asked Thomas permission to draw some of his blood.

"Put her here," The doctor ordered as soon as the group of five entered a fairly large tent a ways away. Inka obeyed, helping Jorge gently place Brenda down on the makeshift cot at the back of the tent, trying to keep her eyes off of the beakers and medical equipment that was strewn around on large tables. "Thank you."

As soon as she had obeyed the task given to her, Inka began to strut out of the tent as fast as possible and give the four some time alone, knowing that Thomas would have plenty of questions to ask the woman. She could not, however, shake the doctor's eyes off of her as her thin frame exited the canvas prism and headed towards where she had last seen her friends.

"Inka!"

The British girl's head snapped towards the sound of Newt's voice, and she caught sight of the entire group huddled around a fire being supplied jackets and gloves. Her steps increased in speed as she made her way over to her friends, almost jogging as she thought of the warmth that a good coat would bring. Newt smiled when she reached their circle, grinning fully once she returned his gesture with a bit of a twinkle in her eye. The two were handed warm clothing including not only jackets but gloves, scarves and hats, which Inka opted not to wear despite Minho's protest that her head would freeze off. None of the group noticed that Teresa silently backed away after having received her own warm garments, and instead focused on finding a place where they could sit down and rest.

They congregated around a fire pit a ways away, hurriedly accepting cans of soup from Harriet who smiled as they tore the perishable canisters open and began to wolf the food down. There was nothing but groans of satisfaction and happiness as the survivors chowed down on the only food they had eaten in days, stomachs grumbling as their bodies registered just how many nutrients they had been lacking. Minho was the first to finish his meal, burping loudly as he set down his can and gladly accepted the canteen of water that Sonya handed him. She and Harriet sat themselves down on stumps in the circle of friends, drinking out of their own soup canisters as they watched the group finish eating and cease their shivering. The air still bit at their skin however, causing several of them to huddle closer to the fire.

"It's buggin' cold up here," Frypan complained as he rubbed his gloved hands together. The team was not used to the frigid air of the mountain, having been accustomed to the Glade's warm weather and the burning heat of the scorch. Inka grimaced in agreement as she huddled up next to Newt, staring down at her fingerless gloves that conveniently had mitten top flaps attached to the material. Her cargo pants were not providing much heat at all, but the rest of her was warm and Inka did not find herself minding so much about her legs once she felt Newt's side press into hers.

"I'd rather be cold and free than back in the scorch..." Aris grimaced before beginning a side conversation with Sonya and Harriet about their times in the maze together. From what Inka overheard, the group had referred to the Glade as 'the box', and the Grievers as 'bugs', which was interesting as it provided insight as to the different ways humans could perceive and label things.

"I want to drive Bertha again," Inka sniffled, initiating her own conversation and smiling sheepishly when Newt grinned down at her.

"You'll get another chance," He assured, certain that when everything was calmed down she would seize another opportunity to drive again.

"We'll have to come with you though," Minho snorted, teasing his ex-running partner as she raised her eyebrows in question. "Can't let you crash and burn in a car wreck all on your own, can we?"

"Psh," Inka played along with the light banter, laughing as her friends began to make fun of her motor skills. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

"Yeah," Frypan snorted, taking a large gulp out of the canteen of water that Minho passed him before speaking again. "Just like I'm not that bad at cooking."

"Oh, come on," Newt argued, defending his friend's cooking back in the Glade. "Your slop was the best part of my day for three years."

"Yeah - until Inka came up in the box, right Newt?" Minho grinned at the boy, causing the pair of Brits to blush brightly as they spluttered. It seemed that although they were aware of their feelings for each other they refused to admit them to anyone else, even though it was blatantly obvious to their friends. Thankfully the attitude was light and airy, setting everyone at ease rather than discomfort. Now that the situation was relaxed and the stress of survival was off their minds, they were more able to joke and laugh like the days back in the Glade when things had been much simpler.

"Just admit it," Frypan continued teasing the two. "There's no point in keeping it a secret anymore!"

"Ah," Newt did not need much encouragement as he let a smile tug at one side of his mouth, resulting in a smirk that caused Minho to raise his eyebrows in both glee and expectation. "Shuck it."

Very quickly and rather sneakily, he grasped Inka's rosy cheeks in between his hands and laid a chaste kiss on her mouth, reveling in her squeak of surprise before she clasped at the lapel of his coat with one hand and softly entangled her other in his golden locks. Their actions resulted in a small cheer from their friends that had been badgering them fruitfully, grinning like maniacs as they watched the pair pull away from each other and flush brilliantly.

"I knew you had it in ya," Minho continued to smile at Newt. "Slinthead."

"Oi!" The British boy quickly hurled a small stick towards his friend, chuckling as Minho ducked out of the way and continued laughing. "Shove it, shuckface!"

Unbeknownst to the group who continued their playful ribbing, the female doctor from minutes ago had begun to make her way over to the group, preparing to collect Newt and Inka. Whilst in the tent injecting Brenda with the bliss antidote to counter the effects of the Sun Flare virus, Thomas had told the doctor about how Brenda had mentioned Newt and Inka being a class one match pair, or 'something of the sort'. The shocked doctor did not need any further clues, and only asked for a description of the two before venturing outside to look around the encampment. It did not take her long to spot and approach the pair that Thomas had been very correct in outlining, as he had explained that they always looked 'glued together'. The two were seated in one of the many firepits, surrounded by their friends and laughing amiably. They sat unbelievably close and the sides of their bodies – the male's being left and the female's being right – did not offer a crack of space between them. No light shone in between their shoulders all the way down to their boots as they listened to one of the entertaining tales an oriental boy was recounting to them.

It took a moment for the doctor to realize that Inka was the girl she had recognized from the trials; she had been the fifth out of one hundred of Janson's famous test subjects that he kept locked away in the sub-levels of WCKD's secondary base, home to the testing Grievers as well. The doctor had remembered attending several meetings where these sorts of topics were brought up, the subject generally being machine and Maze enhancements to better test the actual Maze subjects. The girl – or 'five', as she had been known amongst the staff – had been the only subject out of one hundred to beat the artificial intelligence's speed record on the fake mazes they had built in the basements of the facility, and she had also been the only number out of twenty that had survived towards the end of the third year that was sent up to one of the real mazes to trigger the End. Unfortunately she was also difficult to contain, and Janson had not only increased the intensity of her testing but included more swipes to effectively file down the storage in her brain so that she had less chance of outbreak before Ava Paige had declared her readied – after a number nearing one thousand false trials – to trigger the End of the test in Group A.

The doctor had not however, remembered that five was the only one out of three class one matches that had survived up until year three. She assumed that Ava Paige would have been rather frantic about five's preparation for this very reason; it was rare for a pair to survive in separate environments for this long, especially when the boy had already tried to eliminate himself from the maze environment and the girl had already tried to run, but the head of the organization continued the testing and eventually sent five in only to have her successfully escape from Janson's base days later – or so the doctor presumed. The doctor nearly let out a smirk when she thought of exactly what Ava Paige had lost, and exactly what she was about to gain.

"Excuse me," She quickly approached the pair, not wanting to interrupt the circle but inevitably doing so. "Inka? Newt?"

The two looked slightly alarmed when their names were called, but the medical professional held up two hands as a form of friendship as to reassure them.

"My name is Mary Cooper – I'm the doctor here. I'm sorry to interrupt; Thomas told me about you," She tried to explain, not wanting to make the moment any more awkward. "Would you mind if we talked privately?"

The two youths gave each other a glance the doctor couldn't decipher before standing up and waving goodbye to their friends, who slowly resumed conversation after the two had left the firepit. They seemed slightly reluctant to leave the safe circle, although the two were clearly relaxed in the presence of each other and did not show any other signs of stress.

"Sorry – what is this?" Newt piped up as they followed the doctor to her tent.

"Just give me a minute," The long haired brunette woman assured, leading the two inside a smaller and more secluded medical tent – separate from the one Brenda was being housed in – and allowing them to sit on a bench inside. She pulled out a familiar scanner from her bag several feet away, making Inka frown a little as she wondered what was going on.

"Do you mind?" Mary asked for permission before she approached the two youths.

"You mean..." Inka was still slightly alarmed as to why the doctor had a scanner in the first place, but calmed herself and chose to approach the situation with curiosity instead of hostility. "You want to scan us?"

"If it's alright?" Mary stood in front of the two, waiting for a reply from the shell-shocked teens who had not been used to questions like that before. No one had asked them if it was okay to touch them before, especially not anyone holding a scanner. Their brains had been so used to sudden touches that it was no longer registered as rude, although they were both tired of being jostled around and treated like animals. It took a moment for either of them to respond, but as soon as Inka decided that it was okay Newt immediately agreed as well.

"Y-yeah," Inka pulled down her scarf so that Dr. Cooper could walk around and look at the back of her neck. The doctor gently pulled Inka's hair out of the way and placed the scanner above it, clicking on the trigger once until it beeped and displayed results. She then moved onto the golden-haired boy, who looked at her rather strangely before letting himself be scanned as well. The device beeped twice, indicating that Thomas had been correct and that this pair was, in fact, a class one. The screen did not lie, and it read in very clear letters that these were subject 5 and A-5 indeed, property of WCKD, immunes, and a class one match pair.

"Impossible..." Mary murmured, dumbfound as she stood to go check her notes. This situation had never been faced before; it was a new frontier in the army camp that needed to be studied and nurtured. The two needed to be informed and educated on what this meant as the precious scientific connection that was as basic as their blood type and as complicated as the limbic system and the neurons going off in their brain showing optimal emotional response to each other and was vital for the re population of this small society.

"I'm sorry," Newt piped up, growing too curious for his questions to be kept inside his brain any longer. "What's going on?"

"This may take a while to explain," Dr. Cooper's voice was soft as she turned back to them, watching their eyes flit towards each other first and then back towards her, indicating hesitation paired with curiosity. They deserved answers, and she was going to give them. "I'm sure you guys have heard something about match pairing? And classes?"

The two gave each other uncertain glances before turning back towards the doctor and nodding.

"I don't want to go too far back," Mary continued, seeing them shift a little closer together in discomfort at her tone. "I'm not sure what exactly WCKD did with you or what your lives were before they took you, but a class one generally means a pair shows complete outstanding genetic and emotional compatibility. There really isn't an easy way to describe this, but things like your matching blood type – O negative, which can only be donated specifically to another O negative – or this little red cross," She took the time to show them the small symbol in the bottom right portion of the screen that she had scanned them on, showing both of their faces and information. "That shows a full body organ donor match...it's just near impossible to find this sort of thing between two people who aren't related."

"So what does that mean?" Inka rose a brow, looking between the doctor and Newt carefully. Had WCKD known about this? Had Janson known as well?

"It means this combination is rare, and unfortunately that means it's high in demand as well." Dr. Cooper continued. "You're both relatively healthy, have no signs of autosomal or recessive diseases and the chemical levels in your brain respond perfectly to each other quite naturally. For example here,"

The doctor showed them another symbol this time to the left of the screen where eight different colors made up a very small bar.

"That shows that in all of these neurotransmitters – dopamine, serotonin, adrenaline, noradrenaline, your endorphins, things like that – they sort of fit like a puzzle piece, causing you to balance each other out if you're in proximity."

"Neuro – neurotrans what?" Newt tried to pronounce, failing miserably the first couple tries but persevering. "Neurotransmitters?"

"Yes," The doctor nodded explaining once more what the definition of that specific word meant. "They're the chemical messengers in your brain. They control emotions, hormones, impulses, nerves, muscle fibers, so forth."

Newt and Inka were both quiet as they stared at the ground and then each other, frowning slightly as they began to realize the impact of what Mary was telling them.

"There is also the next generational immunity – you both have the allele necessary to rend you immune to the Solar Flare," The medical professional continued, going rather slowly and showing them the scanner one more time so that they could see the green dot on the top right corner. "I don't know what you've been told about it, but the Flare is a deadly virus that destroys the host cells in your brain and attacks them with degenerative DNA before killing them completely. You both hold immunity to this – and that trait is dominant in both of you which means your children will have it, their children, and so forth."

"So...that means -" Newt began, slightly open mouthed as his relief betrayed his features.

"We're completely immune?" Inka looked towards Mary as if she couldn't believe it herself, then subconsciously held Newt's wrist in her hand. They had both assumed that they had been immune on their journey to the Right Arm's encampment, but they had accepted the possibility that they were not immune to the disease up until this point.

"Apparently so," Dr. Cooper glanced down at the scanner again. "WCKD's classification system doesn't lie – a match pair has usually been tested on before to verify that two people are compatible. I'm not sure what kind of tests they ran on you but..."

At this point the doctor faltered, unsure if Inka wanted to hear what she was going to reveal.

"But what?" Newt prompted her to continue, causing the doctor to obey reluctantly.

"I know that she was tested on," The medical professional finally revealed, causing Inka to freeze as her face dropped. "I recognize you. I remember names, numbers, everything."

"Tell me," Inka breathed after a moment of shock. "I know so little, and I'm tired of chasing answers."

"I remember you were subject number five," Mary began, cautious as she was aware that the sensitive information could trigger harsh reactions from the girl. "And I remember Janson hosting many meetings explaining the other hundred children trapped in the sub-levels. A lot of money was sunk into making those fake trials – but it ended up enhancing the real tests much more."

"I knew most of that," Inka sighed tiredly, almost in disappointment as she leaned into Newt's one armed embrace.

"I also remember you were sent to trigger the End." Dr. Cooper forced out, knowing that she owed it to the girl who had been tortured to viciously for three long years.

At this, Inka raised her head off of Newt's shoulder and frowned at the woman in confusion. "What?"

"The End," Mary clarified. "It's the end of an experiment – usually caused by manual tactics from the researchers themselves, but in your case it needed to be done using test subjects. You were the only one out of twenty to survive the eight hundred trials over the course of three years, and you were the only one capable of beating the artificial intelligence's record on those fake trials. Janson was especially proud of your speed, although I didn't support his methods of training. Eventually, since you were paired to A-5 -"

"A-5?" Newt found himself blurting out before he could stop himself.

"Yes," The doctor nodded with patience. "A-5. That's you."

Newt looked over at Inka before he could stop himself, his pupils locking onto hers as they shared a connection they had not felt the depth of before. They had been matched – tested on for three years in separate environments and then grouped together all as a part of one big scheme that neither of them had been aware of. It was bizarre and nearly comforting at the same time. But what did this mean? What had caused this connection?

"Since you were paired with him, they sent you up to trigger the End of Group A." Mary continued explaining wearily. "Unfortunately, that was around the same time that Thomas got caught up in things – so they sent him up as well. I believe you had tried to break out several times prior to your eight hundredth trial because you were growing immune to the swipe that Janson gave you every time you'd finish a test."

"That's why I remembered the Grievers' noises – that's why I've been getting dreams..." Inka murmured to Newt in bewilderment. "My brain is like a clogged up drain."

"Yes," Dr. Cooper nodded along, proud that the girl had been able to recollect some of her memories and assuming that 'Grievers' had been Group A's label for Janson's horrid mechanical creations that screeched and could be heard every time anyone traveled to the man's compound. "Exactly. It's remarkable that you two have survived this far – they had you in those facilities for a long time testing for results that foreshadowed this sort of success, but chances were still slim and your escape definitely wasn't part of the plan."

"How long is a long time?" Inka bit her lip in concern, remembering Thomas' comment that they had all started their journey with WCKD as children but hoping that it was not true.

"Well," Mary regrettably announced. "The experiment started when it was discovered that the immunes would be the next generation, and Paige was willing to sacrifice that whole population to discover a cure. I was part of her research team – along with Thomas, who was taken in as a child alongside all of you. By then, match pairs were becoming distinguishable; class two's and three's were common, but there were only three class one match pairs – one of those was you two."

Inka gulped, not wanting to hear the answer as she shared another glance with Newt who had paled visibly. Thomas' words _had_ been true. "Exactly...exactly how old were we?"

"I would say about six or seven years," Dr. Cooper shared a sympathetic glance with both youths in front of her. "That's when the relations become apparent. You have been the only surviving pair – I've never seen higher results than these. Unfortunately this makes you a valuable target, as you've probably been able to tell, so we're going to do our best to keep you safe."

"So we did know each other – and our friends – before this whole mess?" Newt began to go back to the topic that the doctor had been discussing before, watching as she grabbed a stool out of the corner of the small tent and sat a ways away from them, organizing notes. His heart began to beat rapidly, suspicions of having known Inka before the whole maze coming true as he realized that there was now an unbreakable possibility that they had shared a connection prior to the swipes. It was no wonder that after eight hundred dosages of something that had cleared his mind so easily she would have begun to develop an immunity, but at this rate neither of them would remember anything about their relationship prior to the trials.

"Well yes," Dr. Cooper stated as if this fact was quite obvious. "The Maze Trials didn't start until you had turned fifteen. By then you were already in the Maze and she was already taken by Janson."

"So that makes us..." Inka tried to count in her head before coming up with the right answer. "Eighteen?"

"Yes, you should both be around eighteen at this point," Mary answered simply, smiling wryly. "The tests were designed to track your brain development through those three very prominent developmental years, as you had all been subjected to less intense testing beforehand."

This statement said nothing about what their living conditions or relationships had been like before the Maze Trials or any sorts of swipes, but it was clear that WCKD had taken them from an early age and not only robbed them from whatever families they may have had but free lives as well. It was debatable whether or not the wipeout of an entire population to guarantee humanity's survival in the future was ethically acceptable, but if that had been the case the Right Arm would not have existed. And Mary Cooper – who had clearly been a former WCKD employee – would not have agreed to take Thomas' information months ago when she had defected.

"And you don't know anything else?" Inka gulped, pushing for more answers as her palms began to sweat profusely. This was a load of information, and she was not exactly sure how to process it.

"About?" The doctor clarified, raising her eyebrows towards the pair.

"About us," Newt finished Inka's question.

"The only other thing I vaguely remember was a schooling program that was initiated somewhere in the year twenty two seventeen," Mary thought for a moment, pursing her lips in thought. "It was designed to enhance your cognitive, mathematical and strategical thinking skills as well as increase your general education – although much of it would not be remembered due to the swipe. I believe you would retain abilities and actions, but not remember the basis of where you had learned them."

"And what year is it now?" Newt scrunched up his face, not understanding the calendar just yet and wanting to ignore the urge to pull his hair out – and urge which Inka was succumbing to that quickly set Newt's reflexes off to tug her hand off her head – due to the fact that all of the questions they had had about knowing how to do something and not understanding _why_ they knew how to do that specific thing were being answered at the very moment. The very concept was maddening; someone had been toying with their lives for the past eighteen years, and they could not even remember how they had learned to climb a tree. Was it all a lie? Were they in tanks at this very moment being hooked up to tubes that simulated reality?

"Twenty two thirty two," The doctor responded easily, and the two teens were ripped out of their thoughts as they reeled back in shock. It took them a moment to remember that it did not matter however, as the concept of time seemed irrelevant at this point since they had lived so long without it. All that mattered was what happened on a day-to-day basis, and it was important that as resistance fighters themselves they learned to live in the moment instead of in the past or future.

Obviously, the catch was that with such a turbulent history it was easy to get sucked away in the struggle to stay sane.

"Hold on," Inka frowned, one last question remaining in her brain as she tried to puzzle out her and Newt's origins. "We're the only ones around here with accents. What is that? If the Solar Flare hit all of earth, wouldn't other countries have made safe havens too? Or rallied forces? Something?"

"I'm not sure," Dr. Cooper answered honestly. "WCKD didn't let it's employees know if they had formed contact with other nations, and by then any governments or military forces were most likely obsolete. The Flare virus extinguished billions; you have to understand that it's a miracle you all made it to this camp alive. I assume that during the time the Flare had broken out your families had already immigrated to North America, but it must have been by chance that you two were the only British test subjects. Other nationalities exist – and I'm sure that many WCKD employees also came from the United Kingdom as well as many other countries – but I don't have an explanation as to why you are the only remaining test subjects with that peculiar accent."

This still did not answer Inka's question of why the only two British test subjects were existing in a match pair, but nevertheless she accepted that she would have to ponder the topic further on her own and stood abruptly.

"Thank you – we appreciate this," She nodded towards the doctor who fixed her with a brief understanding smile before nodding, and Newt stood only to do the same. The woman had answered many questions and it was time for the two teens to go, so they took their leave silently and exited the tent in single file. As soon as they had stepped out of the canvas enclosure they both let out a large breath, staring towards each other strangely for the first time.

"I wonder what we would have been like before," Newt started, not wanting the silence to last any longer as they stood outside the tent.

"I don't think it really matters," Inka bit her lip again, watching him lean against one of the tent poles. "Right? I mean – I hate that we don't know who we were before too, but at this point..."

"We can't change it," Newt finished her sentence once more, watching as she shook her head in confirmation and stared up at him with the large grey eyes he had grown so comforted by.

"You know," The British boy began again, heaving a breath through his nose as he tried to sum what he wanted to say up in one sentence. "You're one of the most remarkable people I know. You're a pusher – you fought through thick and thin and you didn't give up. It's like you were made to be here."

At his words Inka tensed and she let out a harsh laugh, remembering Janson's specific lines from not long ago. "I was manufactured, no?"

Her tone was tight and sarcastic, causing Newt's expression to fade into regret as he realized that he had hit a nerve.

"Shit – no, no. Oh, I didn't mean it that way!" The boy shook his head as he took two steps closer to her, holding his hands out but not knowing where to put them, and eventually placing them on her cheeks in an effort to comfort her. "I meant that without you I don't think I could have done this; I need you, and I want you."

There was another moment of silence between the two as Inka looked up at Newt through her lashes, a small smile shaping on her lips as she took a step closer to him as well. Their steaming breaths mingled at this point, dancing together in the cold mountain air before vaporizing into nothingness.

"Whatever they did to us was wrong," She began, blinking rapidly as dozens of thoughts flew through her head, most of them involving the boy right in front of her. "...but I don't think they were wrong about us."

Newt recognized his cue to weld his lips to hers, and as soon as he took the plunge his eyes had slammed shut and his brain had shut off. They melted into each other, pheromones pouring out as tongues fought against each other in a dance that had been ingrained in their system long ago. Their breaths mingled and they relished in the warmth of each other, holding each other as close as was humanly possible without ever breaking for breaths that they had robbed from each other. Heat flared up from each of their stomach's, spreading to their chests to their feet and cheeks until their fingertips were on fire and their lips were tingling. Although they could hear everything and smell everything as their senses heightened, nothing else existed in their universe besides each other at the moment. The flow was easy, relaxing and simple, just as it had been the first time they had shared any type of intimacy. Movements were familiar and felt as though they had been rehearsed since the beginning of time, causing both partners to relish in the connection that they were ever more increasingly aware of that existed between them.

Fingers threaded through hair and clutched at cheeks and necks and shoulders in a search for any skin findable, mapping out every crevice and bump as if contributing them to one larger blueprint that they used to memorize each other's bodies even further. Soft gasps and airy moans filled the air around them, enclosing them in the private space they had created as if they were two joyous birds celebrating spring's arrival on their own secluded branch. The connection held so much vigor and passion it seemed as though if they let go they would collapse, and this only caused their bond to increase in strength. They kissed each other with everything they had, wanting and needing each other to know that. It was not long before their lips – red and swollen like their hearts seemed to be at the moment – parted so the two could stare at each other through dilated pupils. Their foreheads collided gently and they relaxed against one another, their breaths mixing in the air once more and furling together as warm brown orbs merged with tempestuous grey. They were each others' oxygen, each others' nourishment and the reason they would never give up as long as either of them lived and breathed each other. Both felt as if they had been struck by a jolt of lightning, electricity whirring all around them only to catch them in a storm of pheromones and glowing fervor that fed their spirits to no end.

Neither of them had ever felt more alive.


	18. Chaos

**Chaos**

 ** **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.****

"I wish Alby could have seen all of this," Newt muttered as he overlooked the camp from a small rock overhang. He, Thomas, Frypan, Inka and Minho had gathered there as soon as they had seen Thomas emerge from Dr. Cooper's large blue tent, and were now finally letting the entire month's events play in their heads.

The British boy slipped his fingers in between Inka's and clasped her hand gently for support. His heart wrenched for his old friend, the grief still too near for him to think about properly. Alby had been his stability for so long that it was almost surreal that all of this had taken place without him. He had provided peace for the Glade like no other had – not even Nick and George before him – and although it had not lasted for long when Inka and Thomas had arrived, Newt knew that those three years had been better because of Alby.

"And Winston," Frypan piped up, shaking his head as he sullenly thought about his best friend.

"And Chuck," Thomas added brokenly, spinning around the young boy's figurine in his hands. The four other youths looked towards his hands with heartbroken expressions, knowing that the small statue symbolized each and every friend they had lost along the way.

"He'd be proud of you, y'know Tommy," Newt reassured his friend, understanding that it could in no way make up for Chuck's loss but hoping that Thomas would feel the truth in his statement.

"Yeah," The heartbroken boy muttered back with a lump in his throat, tears welling in his eyes as he tried to shut out the vivid imagery of Chuck's death playing again and again in his mind. Winston's defenseless form also haunted him, and Thomas could not stop the shudder that wracked his body when he remembered the ex-slicer's wheezing tones in the hallucination he had suffered back at Marcus' house.

"Hey, Aris!" Frypan suddenly called to the boy who was sitting by the fire pit they had abandoned not too long ago alongside Harriet and Sonya. The skinny survivor gave a wave back to the call, spotting the group sitting up on the rock ridge that overlooked the Right Arm's encampment. "I kinda like that kid."

"Yeah," Minho shook his head at Frypan's smile, narrowing his eyes as he joked to lighten the mood. "I still don't trust him, though."

"Yeah yeah," Inka smiled from her place in between him and Newt. "You'll get over it."

The small line of survivors laughed, but they knew that in the back of their heads the possibility that this entire encampment could have just been another trap that WCKD had managed to ensnare them in still remained. It was highly unlikely at this point, and the fact that Aris had known two test subjects supported the belief that this was in fact that real Right Arm, but there was still an inkling of suspicion that there were spies amongst the rebels' midst just like there had been spies at Jorge's compound. Granted, the men and women back there had looked a lot more rough around the edges and more like gang members than anything, but the doubt still remained in the survivors' minds.

"Where's Teresa?" Thomas blurted out, failing to spot the long haired brunette as he looked around the vast array of tents.

"She went up there," Newt motioned towards the top of a canyon, where Teresa's form – still shrouded in her long pale pink coat – could easily be seen. They all turned to look at her, watching as she stood as still as the rocks surrounding her with her back towards them.

Thomas quickly excused himself seconds later only to head in the direction of the girl, leaving the rest of his friends shivering and blowing on their hands to heat themselves up. Even dressed in three – or in Inka's case, four – layers of sweaters and jackets, they were still frigid and could feel their jaws tightening with cold.

"Alright, that's it," Minho grimaced and jumped up as soon as Thomas was no longer visible. "I can't take another minute of this – I'm asking for a tent."

"Yeah," Newt agreed, causing Inka to follow his motions when he rose as they were still connected hand by hand. "It's getting dark anyway. Come on Fry, let's go."

The four managed to locate Vince quickly enough in the dark, and were escorted to a medium sized tent that the gruff man explained to them Aris had already snagged. As soon as they entered the plan canvas enclosure they were encompassed in heat, and all four groaned in relief as they spotted the gas catalytic heater sitting in the corner. Aris was hovered over it, trying to understand the mechanism and worrying about it's safety, but Minho stated that he couldn't care less and quickly tore off his coat to appreciate the warmth. The rest of the survivors followed, looking towards the ground that held eight sleeping bags strung together and piles of blankets thrown on top.

"I'm sleeping in my clothes anyway," Inka grabbed a blanket for herself and plopped down on the nearest bag, noticing that whilst the ground was rather uncomfortable the Right Arm had been resourceful enough to stack some material underneath it. She was grateful for the makeshift bed and lay herself down on it, watching as Newt shifted into place beside her and Frypan began to hunker down as well.

"Do you think Teresa's alright?" The British girl questioned softly, frowning lightly as she realized that the other girl who had survived with them up to that point had not been very present or talkative whatsoever.

"What do you mean, love?" Newt responded, his pair of eyes being one out of four others that looked over at her in the tent.

"She seems..." Inka searched for the word, staring at the ceiling of the canvas as she pondered what was wrong with their friend. "I don't know – off."

"She's a big girl," Minho grumbled from Inka's other side, using his arm as a pillow so that he could get some rest. "She'll be fine."

There was a brief moment where Newt's eyes connected with those of his significant other, and he felt his own eyebrows pull together subconsciously as he noticed that Inka was indeed correct about the fact that Teresa was 'off'. Whilst her vocabulary did not describe the girl's behavior in the best way possible, her inkling that something was wrong with Teresa was well placed and Newt found himself growing curious as well. Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do for the night, and both hoped that Thomas would be more than capable of dealing with the situation. So, with a few last murmured 'goodnights' between them, they allowed themselves to be carried off into unconsciousness.

* * *

 _"Sir, she's exceeded the AI's speed record on this test,"_

 _Large glasses framed a man's face Inka could not recognize, partly because he was blurry and she was once again in stasis lying on a cold table. She struggled to move any part of her body – her fingers, toes or neck – but found that she could not budge a centimeter. She was trapped in a temporary paralysis that pushed her anxiety off the charts and yet, the cavity of her body trapped her emotions only to force her to stay still. She was in a limbo; not dreaming, but not fully awake either. She vaguely acknowledged that she was living a real memory that her subconscious mind had locked away, but was distracted when Janson's voice interrupted her thoughts._

" _Increase the intensity of the next trial," The rat man responded simply, as if it was the easiest and most obvious fix in the world. "I need a higher dosage for the sedation as well – she's growing a resistance to the swipes."_

 _She could barely see anything out of the corner of her eye, but she managed to catch a glimpse of a large mole on one of Janson's cheeks that confirmed it was the dreaded man she held so much hatred towards. She felt sluggish and slow, hardly being able to remember her own name as she tried to listen in on what else they were saying. Her eyes tiredly followed the two men around the room, trying to make out the unknown man's face but failing miserably upon realization that she could not tilt her head to spot him. Large straps were also blocking her, as she realized, and had been secured across her mid-section, legs and arms._

" _Send her back for the eighty forth trial," The rat man spoke again, this time out of an area that she thought could have been off to her left. At this point she understood they must have been speaking of her trials, and upon realizing which number they had mentioned, she began to panic. She was doomed to repeat the terrible memory once more, but as much as her heart raced Inka could not move a muscle._

" _Should we send all of the subjects back for another run?" Janson's associate suggested, typing away on his computer. "Just to be equal in our results here?"_

" _An eye for an eye leaves everyone blind, Marks." The rat man sounded as though he had a slight smile on his face, although Inka could not see it nor respond to the quote she knew she recognized. It was then that her gurney began to move, and all she could see as her head was strapped back were the patterns of lights passing over her head in the corridor._

 _Then, as if a higher power had decided that she had seen enough, her vision swirled and she was being transported to a very different scenario. This time she felt more in focus, more present – overall more in tune with what was happening. It took her vision a moment to focus, but as soon as the blur in front of her came to view she realized she was standing in front of a very familiar, and significantly younger-looking, golden haired boy. It was Newt, and they were both standing in a room that looked very reminiscent of the compound they had discovered after escaping the maze but Inka knew that this moment was different. Her body was hers, but she was not in control. The moment had been saved in her subconscious and she was just now accessing it, playing audience in a moment that she had hosted years ago._

 _Looking out of a body that she knew belonged to her but could not control, Inka watched the boy in front of her moved to hold her._

 _He looked as though something was weighing heavily on his mind, but was pushing through it. His demeanor exuded calmness and peacefulness, as if he was trying to put on a brave face for her in the presence of danger._

 _"Promise you won't forget about me," Tears escaped from her eyes as a voice that she knew was hers erupted from her mouth. She caressed him, memorizing each and every inch of skin whilst she breathed his name. He did the same, holding her as close to him as possible and tracing the muscles he cherished so lovingly on her back. "Please. You're the only thing I have."_

" _How could I forget?" He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead before laying a heavy one on her lips, chest rumbling as he spoke. "You are the only thing I need. I love you."_

" _I never wanted this," She threaded her fingers through his hair before trailing them down onto his shoulders again as if she was trying to mold him to her. "For either of us. I love you."_

" _We both deserved better," He admitted, holding her tight to him and thinking back to how it all started. The documents, the agreements, the waivers – everything that they had not signed up for had happened. Chaos had erupted and their lives had changed, thrusting them into a cruel, unfair world where they had little choice. "You'll always be in my heart."_

 _At that the two were tugged violently away from each other, both in opposite directions thanks to large black hands that Inka knew she was all-too familiar with. Forces pushed and shoved against her and as much as she cried and struggled the colors in her vision all molded into one, leaving her with nothing but disorientation and panic in her chest. She could no longer distinguish between what was real and false, the past and present realities mixing together until a familiar pain erupted from the side of her neck and she was violently tugged back into reality just as she had been thrust into the Glade not long ago._

"INKA!"

The girl woke with a start, letting out a shrill yelp as she recognized Newt's panicked tone and the sounds of deafening explosions outside. The girl let out another shriek as she felt Minho's hands pulling her up, the rest of the boys around her already halfway out the tent and shouting in fear. Sounds of screaming and helicopter blades filled each of their ears as they burst out of the canvas enclosure, gaping in horror once their eyes caught sight of the disarray surrounding them.

The scene was utter chaos. Fires were lit and tents went up in flames, burning like torches in the pitch black night. Sand immediately surrounded the youths as they tried to keep up with the rebels flocking around them, screaming for the teenagers to run and get out of harms way. Inka did not even have time to think about the events of the dreams that were still fresh in her mind before she realized that the black hands so vivid in her visions were present right in front of her, firing away at helpless rebels that were dropping like flies. There was no doubt these were disciples from WCKD; their fizzing bullets and solid black masks revealed their true alliance as they continued to shoot the mobile tazers towards the resistance fighters.

"Keep moving!" Someone was hollering, shouting for everyone to scatter into the mountains.

"Where's Thomas?!" Frypan ducked behind a bucket and panted harshly as Minho, Newt and Inka copied him, sheltering themselves behind the metal that barely hid their forms from the soldiers. They could not spot their friend amongst the rapidly dispersing crowd, and grew even more petrified when they realized that there was a huge risk of capture.

"Harriet, ammo!"

Vince's distinct voice could be heard hollering over all of the disorder, and finally gunfire that did not belong to the whirring assault rifles of the WCKD armed forces erupted into the night. Minho quickly searched for the direction that Vince's voice had come from, eventually spotting the man and his shotgun sitting in the back of a pickup truck that contained a gargantuan sized heavy machine gun in it. The group of five scrambled towards him, acknowledging that he was now calling for them to crouch behind the truck and take cover.

"How can we help?!" Minho yelled up towards the man.

"You need to cover us!" Harriet yelled, heaving boxes of ammo into the truck so that she could begin to feed them to Vince. The man was holding off as many soldiers as he could that were coming towards the group, taking advantage of the fact that the armored men were going after their comrades and were more like ants than a rallied force. "Do you know how to fire these?!"

Weapons were thrown towards the group's feet, and each survivor grasped their own assault rifle before nodding rapidly. The basic rules for guns seemed to be the same; a cartridge, a safety and a trigger – or in some cases some sort of reload mechanism. This happened to be the case with Minho and Newt's weapons, which included scopes for aims. They equipped them rather easily and began to fire towards the assailants, several of their shots being direct hits. Frypan on the other hand, had been given a shotgun and was less used to the weapon but was succeeding in taking down enemies either way. The reload was rather simple on the device and although the drawback was harsh, the boy had enough muscle to handle each shot and continue to wield the weapon.

Inka was in a whole other category; she had picked up the last weapon on the ground and quickly discovered that it was rapid-fire assault rifle, causing her to yelp in surprise before redirecting the spray of bullets towards oncoming attackers. She vaguely acknowledged the crack of Newt's weapon beside her and watched as his bullets impeded soldier after soldier with deadly precision that she had not expected from the boy. She, on the other hand, happened to find more success in less precise weapons and watched more and more black uniforms fall to the ground as she directed her bullets towards them.

"This fifty's our only chance!" Vince shouted from above them, referring to the fifty caliber heavy machine gun as soon as Harriet had finished loading the rest of the ammo onto the truck.

"Vince, hurry up!" Newt cried, frantic as he realized that more and more armed forces were closing in on their locations. The group of seven were the only ones firing back at the soldiers, causing them to be a point of attack for the ground troops that were trying to round up the remaining rebels. "There's too many of them!"

It was too late.

A soldier that the group had failed to spot from about fifty meters away had charged up a grenade and hurled it towards the truck, causing it to land right near Vince's feet. The small black and blue ball beeped mechanically, the sounds being emitted from it growing faster and faster with every millisecond and making the horrified man realize that he would not have the time to reach down to hurl it back towards their offenders.

"Look out - SHIT!" Vince gave one last cry before the grenade went off, firing volts with heavy amperage through each and every resistance fighter that was standing near the vehicle.

The last thing Inka managed to spot before she crumpled to the floor with electricity flowing through her was the sight of dozens of WCKD's combat forces sweeping towards the truck.

* * *

"Get up!"

Inka was jerked upwards out of her unconsciousness by the harsh voice of a soldier, and before she knew it her eyes had snapped open and she was taking in her surroundings. A helicopter had landed and another was hovering over the torched encampment, it's light panning over the droves of kneeling rebel fighters whilst the sound of it's whirring drowned out any other noises. Soldiers walked up and down the rows of resistance fighters taken hostage, and Inka found herself being shoved along to no doubt be placed somewhere in these ranks.

"Fuck off!" She growled, trying her best to shake the soldier's hold off of her.

"Hey!" She felt the butt of a gun being pressed into her back, and immediately stilled under the threat of another hundred volts coursing through her body. "Keep moving."

"Inka!" Newt's voice greeted her ears, and before she knew it Inka was being shoved into place beside the boy who was all too relieved that she had not been dragged off somewhere else amidst the mess. "Oh, for the love of – are you alright?"

"Newt," She breathed, relief coursing through her veins as she lowered her head in exhaustion for a moment before tilting it back upwards and gazing down the line only to catch sight of Frypan, Minho, Dr. Cooper and Vince. Looking down the other side she could spot Aris, Sonya and Harriet, although they were looking slightly worse for the wear and did not react well when the soldiers began to scan their necks. "Yeah...I'm alright – what's going on?"

"Rat man's here," Minho muttered from Inka's right, and the four trapped in the front row of the large group of rebels looked up in horror only to see Janson parading back and forth along the lines of those captured.

"No..." Inka muttered in terror, a mixture of fury and disbelief coating her features. "No...no, no!"

"Calm," Newt murmured to her, trying to catch her gaze but only receiving it for a moment before she glared back towards Janson. "Calm – come on."

Fortunately the man had not caught sight of her yet, but he and his associate were muttering amongst themselves as they stared over the crowd. None of the survivors could make out what they were saying with the helicopter's noises blocking them from eavesdropping, but one man was holding a pen to a clipboard where they could only assume names were listed. They were correct in their assumptions, which turned out to be bad news for the whole team.

"And five? Where's five?" Janson's eyes raked over the crowd, trying to spot Inka's distinct scars. It did not take him long to find the girl, as she was kneeling next to Newt as close to the boy as possible. Their results continued to astound him, even if he had not been monitoring them for the several days when they had been lost in the scorch.

"Right where I want you," The tyrant murmured, smirking slightly before turning away from Inka's murderous gaze as soon as she caught sight of him and instead looking towards one of his soldiers who continued to scan the survivor's necks. The disciple had reached Newt, who did not fight the gloved hand that pulled at his hair before the familiar uncomfortable feeling was back behind his neck.

"A-5," The soldier announced, moving over to Inka who struggled briefly before her hair was tugged and her neck was revealed. The scanner let out two beeps as he read the number off. "5."

"Sir – the match?" Another soldier looked up, notifying their leader who was stalking back and forth in front of the rows of rebels.

"Keep scanning," Janson shrugged the pair off, content that they had been detained for the time being and not bothering to take extra precautions. This, fortunately, would be his downfall. "Where's Thomas?"

"Right here," A broken voice croaked from the back of the crowd.

Nearly one hundred heads turned to see the boy turn himself in to the WCKD armed forces, who gave him a swift kick so that he stumbled forward towards Janson. The rat man laid a hand on his shoulder, a gleam shining in his eye as he held the boy who had threatened so much of his precious work.

"Thomas," His sickeningly sweet patronizing tone made Inka want to vomit and violently make the man bleed to death at the same time, and she grew even more angry when he swiftly laid a punch on Thomas' stomach.

"Hey!" Vince could be heard struggling from not far away, the desire to protect any children that came into his care overwhelming him. A soldier stopped his efforts however, and he was shoved back into the line of rebels along with Thomas. Janson smirked and smugly trotted off towards his associate, where he could be heard clearly stating to 'bring her in'. None of the survivors knew what this meant, but it was undoubtedly something sinister.

"Why didn't you run?" Minho was glaring at the boy who had been placed beside him, tone sharp and eyes calculating.

"I'm tired of running," Thomas gritted his teeth, shaking his head as he stared towards Janson with the same contempt Inka had in her eyes. Newt studied his friend and clenched his jaw, trying not to let his frustration overwhelm him. After this entire journey – all of their progress, suffering and trials – they had been apprehended yet again. And this time seemed to be the last straw.

It was not long before a large groaning could be heard over the wind, and several seconds passed until the petrified group of resistance fighters spotted the giant airship that the survivors had seen days ago travelling across the scorch. The colossal ship and it's hulking rotor wings began to land at the site, grumbles and groans echoing as it's mammoth-sized frame stabled itself on the ground with a last whine. The sand flew up as it's rapidly spinning wings came to a stop, causing each and every one of the rebels to cover their faces as to avoid the granules of rocks that pinched at their exposed skin.

Then, there was a whirring, and a door near the back of the ship began to open only for blue light to flood the pathway from the helicopter above. First, a group of soldiers could be spotted – clad in the exact armor that the combat forces were wearing – and then Ava Paige herself was revealed. She wore a snowy shade of white that was consistent all the way from the fur on her coat to the soles of her shoes, reminding Inka of a miserable white blob of hatred. Her blonde hair and bright red lipstick were slick and disgustingly perfect as per usual, the British girl noted as she eyed the woman in disdain. Newt shuddered from his place beside her as well, absolute dread filling him as he realized that this could, in fact, be the end for all of the survivors.

"Is this all of them?" Paige's silky voice could be heard from meters away as she spoke to Janson.

"Most of them," Janson assured, catching one glimpse of her threatening look and steeling himself. "It'll be enough."

"Start loading them in," She commanded, stepping past her subordinate and continuing towards the lines of rebels.

"Yes ma'am," He obeyed, directing his soldiers to begin shifting in groups of survivors. "Ok – you heard her. Let's go, get 'em on board!"

Grunts of anger and complaint could be heard as people were shoved into the large airship, some of them trying to get away and only getting themselves tazed in the process of doing so. Those bodies were dragged and dropped, creating a harsh display of harvesting that was taking place. Although most of these were not immunes, Paige knew that Janson could find alternate uses for them.

The woman in charge of the entire operation quickly motioned for Thomas to be brought forward, and despite the boy's obvious reluctance he was brought to face the doctor.

"Hello Thomas," She smiled coolly, eyes revealing her cruel intentions as Inka, Minho, Frypan and Newt stood up as well to protect their friend. Suddenly, Teresa's face emerged from behind the woman, and the doctor quickly turned only to wrap an arm around the girl after giving her a true smile. "I'm glad you're safe."

"The hell...?" Frypan stood up as well, recognizing that they had a bit more freedom now that they were in conference with Ava Paige herself. "Teresa?"

"Wait," Newt frowned, looking between the ghastly woman and the long haired brunette who seemed to shy away from everyone's confused gazes. "What's going on?"

"She's with them," Thomas spat out, clear disdain for Teresa written all over his face as the girl stared towards him with wide eyes. It was as if she did not want him thinking this way, even if it was clear that she had been playing for the opposite team all along.

"No..." Inka murmured the word she had used all too much in the past month of her life, gears turning in her head as she stared towards Teresa in horror. "No."

"Since when?" Minho gaped at Thomas and then back at Teresa, rage beginning to light the fire behind his eyes.

"Oh," Janson smiled, patting his young associate on the back. "Teresa's always had an evolved appreciation for the greater good. Once we restored her memories, it was only a matter of time."

"NO! You -" Inka lunged forward, ready to grip Teresa by the throat, but was quickly stopped by Newt who held her back. "How could you?! I trusted you! I protected you! You were our friend!"

Teresa let tears escape her eyes as she looked back at the girl, guilt written all over her face when she acknowledged just how much her friends had been put through. She knew Inka's sad story just as well as the rest of the boys who looked at her with heartbroken expressions, betraying how they truly felt about her defection from their group. She had been against them all along; she had played as one of the trusted individuals so well that they had believed her and now it was time for her to reveal her allegiance. She had not expected it to be this painful.

"I'm sorry," Teresa tried to make them understand the best way she knew how. "I had no other choice; this is the only way. We _have_ to find a cure."

"She's right," Dr. Paige butted in, fixing the group with a stern gaze as if they were the ones who had done something wrong. "This is just a means to an end. You used to understand that, Thomas." She looked at the boy with an even stronger glare before turning back to the rest of the survivors. "No matter what you think of me...I am not a monster, I am a doctor. I swore an oath. And I swore to find a cure! No matter the cost."

"No," Inka growled, stepping towards the woman as she spoke in between fits of tears. "No! You don't get it – doctors are supposed to take a medical oath, one that protects anyone from getting hurt! That oath was broken when you started hurting people! That oath is supposed to mean no harm, and you..."

Inka choked on another sob. Ava Paige stared towards subject five with a fair bit of uncertainty mixed in with pity, as if she was sorry for the poor girl who's life she had been playing god with.

"You broke that oath when you committed generational genocide," Inka took a breath, voice increased in volume until she was screaming at the doctor as if the roles had been reversed and Ava Paige was the one being subjected to harsh treatment. "You broke that oath when you put all of us in that fucking maze and you broke that oath when you trapped me in your hell of a basement for THREE YEARS!"

"Five! Silence!" Janson roared, silencing the group immediately who stared at him in shock. The rat man stopped as well for a split second as Paige glared at him, knowing fully well that the subjects were hence forth supposed to be called by their names instead of their assigned numbers. They did not know how much information they had gathered based on their past, but Paige could not risk any answers – and for all she knew Janson had just given them one.

Newt stared at the rat man with eyes full of fury, jaw clenching and nostrils flaring as he resisted the urge to lunge towards the man in that moment and rip his throat out. He was calmed when Inka herself laid a hand on his arm, shaking her head subtly and urging him to calm himself before their situation got worse. Finding himself shocked at her self control, he obeyed her wishes and glared back towards Ava Paige.

"I just need more time," The doctor redirected the attention back towards her, where she fought her case amongst the very youths who had ran away from it.

"You mean more blood," Dr. Cooper's haughty tone corrected from not far away, and Dr. Paige found herself staring moodily towards the woman who bravely made her way to stand in front of her.

"Hello Mary," The white queen greeted simply and bitterly as she let the emotions of the past flow through her. "I hoped we'd meet again. I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances."

"I'm sorry about a lot of things too," Mary nodded her head, hair falling in her face as she narrowed her eyes towards her old superior. "But not this. At least my conscience is clear."

"So is mine," The white doctor smiled eerily one last time at her ex-associate before Janson held a pistol towards the woman, firing without a doubt in his mind and watching as the bullet impaled Dr. Cooper in the stomach.

The clearing went silent once more as the shot rang out into the night sky, and Mary looked down in horror only to find her stomach becoming coated in blood. It was a fatal shot, and Ava Paige looked on as the other doctor fell to the ground in the hands of one of the other resistance fighters who had fought off the hold of a soldier to come to her aid. His assistance and calling of Mary's name was futile, however, and the doctor's dead body flopped uselessly onto the ground seconds later. The rest of the survivors stared back towards Janson and Paige in horror, now acknowledging that this was a full on war.

"YOU!" Inka threw herself towards Janson, who had not been expecting her attack and fell to the ground with the small girl on top of him. Her adrenaline fueled her rage as she hurled her fists towards Janson's face, unrelenting and unforgiving until the man fought back and laid a harsh kick to the girl's stomach that resulted in a pained cry from her. This successfully got her off of him and a soldier quickly came to his aid to hold the small girl back, keeping her still despite the large struggle she put up.

"You've got no fight left five," Janson murmured, tracing one of the scars on Inka's cheek and watching her shudder in disgust. "You and all of your friends – it's time to give up. It's all over."

"You're wrong," She barred her teeth as soon as she felt her second wind building up in her stomach, looking up into the eyes of the man who had taken everything from her. "We _will_ fight, and you will pay for what you've done."

"Of course," Janson patronized, nearly stroking the girl's face in sheer joy that he had captured her once more. "Of course you will."

"And you will die," Inka voice had taken a different godly tone, one that rattled Janson's bones and forced a shudder out of him. Her face contorted in anger, eyes morphing into a grey he had never seen before as she glared up at him with such venom he took a step back. "You _will_ die."

With that comment, Janson's mind immediately flipped back to a memory that had occurred not too long ago when he remembered having complete control over the girl.

* * *

" _Ma'am -" The female worker tried to interfere with the test, and Janson watched with growing concern as Ava Paige stopped her._

" _Let the test continue," Her cool was unbreakable, and even Janson found himself nervous as to what would happen if he tried to interfere._

 _The group watched as the boy climbed higher and higher on the wall, the rest of Group A shouting pleas for him to climb down and spare himself. It was as if Dr. Paige had predicted such an event to occur, Janson realized, and was watching it play out like an old television show as opposed to the actual lives of children. He was rougher with his test subjects, most certainly, but Ava had a very frightening air of sadism that hung around her that made the male doctor wonder if she somehow took pleasure out of sapping the lives out of these teenagers._

 _Then, as if something snapped, subject A-5 flung himself off of the wall and was falling to the ground like a dead weight. Although he had aimed for his head to collide with the ground first, his fall shifted that, and he fell with a sickening crunch on one of his legs._

" _He needs his match," Paige deduced quickly, scribbling notes down on her clipboard as she observed the surrounding boys tend to their injured friend. "His neurotransmitters indicate a lack of human connection that we've only seen sated by subject five."_

 _Ava Paige swiveled in her comfortable chair, eyeing Janson who was still looking towards the screen coolly._

" _Is she prepared?" Her tone distracted the man from the scene in test chamber A, and his plain brown eyes met her blue irises._

" _She is always prepared," Janson responded automatically, smirking slightly as he thought of the little running prodigy he had conjured._

" _What trial have you reached?"_

" _Seven hundred and thirty," He held his breath as he waited for confirmation, nearly teeming with anticipation. "Ma'am."_

" _I want her up to eight hundred before we deliver her – she's part of the End trigger for Group A," Paige started, fixating the man with a stern gaze once more after having jotted down his response on her little sheet that Janson hated with a burning passion. "Have her run three trials every two days – update the machines as much as you can before we send her in and for Christ's sake, find a way to swipe her that her immunity can't fight. I don't want a repeat of trial ninety two."_

" _Right away," Janson smiled tightly as he made eye contact with his group of associates standing near the door, nodding once. They took off almost immediately, opening the door with a key card and stalking towards the chambers where the sedated subjects were being contained._

" _You have until the end of the year, Janson." Paige called as he made his way out of the main laboratory, expression hardening with each step of the way._

 _If only he had appreciated how easy things had been then..._

* * *

"Alright Janson," Dr. Paige's voice pulled the rat man from his thoughts as he realized he was still at the Right Arm's base and standing in front of test subject five. "Load them up – let's go. Get rid of all these people, let's go! Let's go!"

The transport of the rebellion begun again with Inka being dragged away just as quickly as Sonya and Aris thanks to the soldiers that had their hands on them and causing Newt to dart off after them. This time however, it was Thomas who stopped the flow of movement. Quickly pulling the bomb that Jorge had left in his explosives bag beside him when he and Brenda had made a run for it minutes earlier, he held the device out in front of him and drew all the attention to himself.

"Get back!" He howled, waiting until Ava had turned around and could fully recognized what he was holding in his hand before he continued shouting out commands. "Everyone, stand back! Stand back!"

"Hold your fire!" Janson tried to control the situation as best he could, instructing his soldiers to tread cautiously with this situation. "Hold your fire!"

"Stand back!" Thomas continued to instruct, pointing his finger towards Sonya, Aris and Inka. "Let 'em go!"

"Thomas, calm down!" The rat man tried to assure the boy, knowing that if he choose to release the trigger his index finger was clinging so desperately to all of WCKD's work thus far would have been useless.

"Let 'em all go!" Thomas shouted in return, causing Janson to bite his tongue as he surrendered control over to Paige.

"You know I can't do that!" The doctor cried, almost as if she was truly upset that Thomas was requesting this of her.

"Thomas, please stop!" Teresa tried to reason with her old teammate as well, pleading with the boy to cease what he was doing. "I made a deal with them – they promised we'd be safe. All of us!"

"And I'm supposed to trust you now?" Thomas scoffed, continuing to hold the bomb out threateningly.

"It's true," Paige declared, holding her arms up as if she was mocking surrendering. "It was her only condition."

"Shut up!" Thomas cried, inner conflict revealing itself on his face.

"Everything can go back to the way it was!" Paige continued, lying blatantly to the boy as she looked towards his friends standing meters away. "Thomas...do you really want all of them to die?"

"Listen to her Thomas," The rat man tried again, knowing that with the right words they could quite possibly win the boy over. "Think about what you're doing."

"We're with you, Thomas."

Suddenly Newt's voice was flooding in the boy's ear, and the bomb in his hand weighed significantly less when he realized that his friends were standing behind him. The plan he had inevitably suggested – ending it all as well as the lives of the researchers around him – was a plan that they had agreed with in a heartbeat because they trusted him more than anyone else in the clearing. If this was what it took to rid the planet of any last non-immunes and harness in a whole new immune generation without wiping out as many people as Paige had suggested in her own plan, they were willing to go through with Thomas'. And that fact made the boy's heart fly a little higher, enough to grant him the confidence to press the trigger. He closed his eyes, preparing for the blow that would end every ounce of pain he and his friends had been feeling for a very, very long time.

"I'm not going back there," He shook his head, shutting out any thoughts that cried out against this delusional plot. "It's the only way..."

"No," Teresa shook her head in horror with tears welling in her eyes as soon as she fully acknowledged what was about to happen.

"Don't..." Paige begged with the boy as Janson stared on intensely.

"Do it, Thomas!" Inka cried, struggling violently as the soldier constricting her fought even harder to contain her. Newt captured her eyes for what would quite possibly be the very last time, relishing in the fiery grey that locked onto his own pupils and made a connection he knew he could never share with anyone else. Her mouth that he so desperately wanted to kiss one last time formulated the next words, soft pink lips ushering a rough and violent command that would prompt a mass suicide none of them were truly ready for. "DO IT!"

Out of nowhere a car horn interrupted the extreme situation, breaking the concentration of everyone involved and forcing their attention towards a military truck impaling itself into one of Janson's helicopters. There were shouts and screams of terror as the large rotor wings broke off and went flying in different directions, soldiers and rebels alike ducking to avoid the giant flying scraps of metal. At this point everything broke into chaos, gunshots ringing out as the rebellion grabbed any firearms they could find. Inka managed to break out of the soldiers hold amidst the insanity and deftly avoided their grabbing fingers, barreling towards their teammates who were scrambling in all directions. Sonya and Aris were not so lucky, however, and continued to be held back by soldiers.

Newt was quick to take Inka's arm and pull her close, watching as Jorge, Teresa and Paige fleed towards the large airship amongst whatever rebels they had managed to capture. The rest were combating assailants themselves, taking cover once more as they put up the fight of their lives. It was at this point that a group of about seven collected soldiers pointed their guns towards the eight teenagers in the middle of the whole mess, threatening to shoot if they moved.

Thomas thought fast on his feet, and quickly released the trigger on the bomb only to throw it in the centre of the organized group of soldiers.

"Run!" Thomas cried as he turned to sprint towards his friends behind him, away from the bundle where he had thrown the bomb. "Get down!"

This caused Newt to tug Inka harshly to the sandy floor of the mountain, both of them holding their heads down as the explosion rang out seconds later. The deafening detonation was so close to the group of eight they could barely hear the noises of gunshots around them until they got back onto their feet, searching for cover amidst the disorder. The British girl rose to her feet, helping Newt up as best she could, and tried to regain her bearings from the thick layer of sand that shrouded them. It was then that Inka heard Thomas' grunt of pain, and before she knew it Janson had struck the boy down feet away from her.

"What a waste," The rat man growled, pulling out his pistol and cocking it only to point it at a very startled Thomas' face.

"No!" Inka gave a shrill cry and charged towards the terrible man, tackling him and sending them both toppling over away from Thomas.

The pair struggled, rolling on the ground and throwing punches wherever they could as they lost themselves in the sandstorm. Inka's small limbs and adrenaline granted her the ability to slip away from Janson's attacks, and she fruitfully dodged several hits before he firmly planted one in her cheek.

"Is this how you want to play, five?!" The rat man roared, acknowledging that his gun had been kicked away from him and was lying somewhere on the sandy ground. Inka did not spare the man another word and threw herself at him yet again, this time successfully avoiding a kick and ignoring the metallic taste of blood in her mouth as the two went rolling across the floor of the mountain.

Despite her system working at three hundred percent to win over the situation, Inka found herself being overpowered by Janson and was receiving quite a beating. Again and again her opponent nailed her to the ground, refusing to relinquish his hold on her amidst the flying sand that shrouded them from each one of the survivors. Inka could feel the world around her growing slower as Janson's fists did not stop their attack, the sights and sounds around her growing blurry and slowed as the hits took effect on her nervous system.

Then suddenly, as if someone had flipped a switch, the entire world was on bright again and Inka could feel a second wind creeping up on her. Recognizing a window of opportunity, she curled her elbow and swung it with all of her might only to watch it clock against Janson's temple and send him flying to the side. It was then that she managed to straddle the man, picking up a pipe lying to the side and raising it high above her head. The rest of the struggle was a blur; Janson fought to remove the girl from him and despite her managing to get a few good shots in with the metal rod, he wrestled the girl back to the ground. It seemed to be the end for her, as she could feel blood pouring down her face at a steady rate while her system tired once again, but out of nowhere there was a shot through the night and Janson went stumbling back.

Inka's head lolled against the ground, energy waning as she tried to deduce who had fired towards her opponent. The face would not be revealed until much later however, and the British girl only heard one more crack echo through the night as Janson stumbled away from the shots being directed towards him. Janson realized that he needed to move away from her body or the sniper would hit him, and with a frustrated grunt began to run towards Paige's large airship.

"This isn't over, five!" He roared against the sounds of gunfire, making eye contact with the girl he had left lying and un-captured.

As he disappeared into the sandstorm that was just now dispersing – giving him enough time for a getaway – Thomas managed to locate Inka amidst the flying swirls of rock and dust.

"Come on, Inka!" Thomas urged, crying for Newt who came barreling towards his voice. Both of them lifted the bloodied girl – who clung to both of their shoulders as her knees buckled – off of the ground, the latter of the two checking her for serious injury.

"Inka, look at me – look at me! Are you alright?" Newt grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him, and although it took a moment for Inka's head to stop spinning while her mouth swallowed pockets of air her grey pupils finally focused. She spat out a large glob of blood and wiped her nose off, left cheek and forehead numb as they began to swell with fresh bruises. Despite all of this and Newt's rather panicked facial expression, Inka nodded her head as a symbol that she was alright. Adrenaline flooded into her system yet again, and she spotted a certain abandoned truck that Vince had not finished dealing with before WCKD had arrived. She continued to nod viciously, beginning to move towards the truck almost hypnotically until her system was back up to normal and she was sprinting through debris and gunfire.

"MOVE!" She screamed, shoving past Aris to sprint towards the vehicle that was sitting meters away. As soon as Newt began to follow her in avid confusion he spotted the 50 caliber machine gun loaded onto the back of the truck and knew what she had in mind.

Inka had no idea how to operate the gun that Vince had been firing minutes earlier when WCKD had swamped the encampment, but she took her best guess and swung herself over the edge of the truck avoiding any gunfire that came her way. Her hope that Vince had left the gun able and ready to be fired without any sort of preparation was granted, and she quickly pulled back a lever sitting on the side only to slam both of her bloody hands down on the controls of the gun and pull the large trigger milliseconds later. The backfire as the gun's ear-shattering shots flew off into the night towards the WCKD armed forces rattled her body, but Inka controlled the motion as best as she knew how using her arms and redirected her firing towards the ground troops.

There was nothing but the deafening sound of heavy machine gun fire and the vibration of the giant weapon as Inka's focused on the crisp black uniforms of the soldiers she was aiming to kill, mind going blank. She was vaguely aware that Newt was feeding her ammo whilst firing at any oncoming forces, having equipped himself with an assault rifle that had been lying strewn on the ground. Again, the pair functioned like a well-oiled machine, wordlessly contributing to the bloody battle the best way they could. Bodies dropped and although two soldiers seemed to sprout out of the spot that Inka had just seemingly shot one in, she and Newt persevered and did not halt their relentless rebellion against the evil organization. Again and again the harsh crack of large silver bullets leaving the shaft of the heavy machine gun filled the air, drowning out any sound until more rotor wings could be heard. Inka quickly directed the fire upwards, tilting the heavy gun so that the bullets fired directly towards the helicopter. She heard the terrible sound of the flying machinery before she saw the damage she had done to one of it's blades, and only shifted the gun's aim back down to the soldier's when the chopper retreated.

"Minho!" She heard Thomas' cry of her friends name before she saw the pair, but as soon as her eyes locked onto the two she knew that she was too late. Her unconscious ex-running partner was slumped over a group of barrels, clearly having been hit with a stun gun and now being dragged back by WCKD's armed forces.

"No!" She cried, redirecting her fire towards the soldier's feet. To her horror, this only made them pull Minho along faster, and at that point Inka completely changed tactics and instead began to fire towards the large airship they were heading towards. She could spot Teresa, Dr. Paige and Janson dodge away from her bullets, turning their heads in the direction of the truck and recognizing that it was the small girl firing the heavy duty machine gun. Her aim was as precise as she could make it, forcing the WCKD employees further into their ship as her bullets hit as much of the machine as possible. Her efforts were futile in the end, however, and she only managed to pick off one of the soldiers that had been surrounding Minho before her friend entered her line of fire and she was forced to stop. She watched the armed men carry him aboard the ship helplessly, feeling as though she had failed her mission completely even though she held immense power in between her hands. Beside him she could spot Aris and Sonya, their terrified gazes latching onto hers from a ways away. Inka could feel her heart breaking at her failure, recognizing that at this point there was a very slim chance her three captive friends could be saved.

Inka could vaguely spot Janson's smirk from where she was about one hundred meters away, causing her to let out a shrill shriek of fury before beginning to fire again towards the ship's large wings instead. The metal let out a groan before the pilot realized what was happening, and although the WCKD disciple sitting in the cockpit tried to start the engine as fast as possible Inka's spray of bullets managed to damage several of the blades on the left rotor. Still, the humongous machine was able to start its motors with no problem, despite the damaged door and broken blades that were a direct result of an M2 Browning's cartridge.

"NO!" Inka screamed savagely as the monstrous ship began to lift into the air, continuing to fire towards it's metal frame in agony. "NO, NO, NO!"

She would not stop firing the gun towards the retreating gunship, reloading the gun herself when Newt froze in shock. Violently tugging the trigger back to reload the cartridge and once more for the safety, Inka shot at the gigantic air machine yet again and did not bother to relent when it became a small speck in the distance. She was certain that she had hit the mark a couple times and heard an alarm-like sound coming from the ship, so squared herself and continued to fire at her target even when it disappeared into the night sky with only a couple lights to its name. The relentless, harsh gunfire and the distant groan of the ship's engines flooded the blackness that was lit by fires that Janson's helicopter had started, still burning bright just like Inka's flame of hatred.

"Girl!" Vince's rough baritone pulled her out of her hysteria, and it was at that point that she registered the tears on her cheeks and the uncontrollable shaking of her hands.

"Inka..." Newt pried the British girl's trembling, bloody fingers off of the large machine gun, surprised to find himself moving after the utter shock that had overcome him when Minho had been taken. "Shh...it's over. It's over."

War, they were beginning to realize, held no victors. It was less about who was right in these issues and now only concerned who was left, which they acknowledged were very few. The battlefield lay silent as Inka buried her swollen, bruised and bloodied face into Newt's chest, allowing silent sobs – the worst kind, as they shook her body and made it feel more like a shell than anything alive and human – to ruin her.


	19. Rebirth

**Rebirth**

 **Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to James Dashner, Dell Publishing, Wes Ball, TSG Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, The Gotham Group, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.**

The smell of smoke and charred canvas filled the nostrils of each survivor left in the encampment, slumped against various equipment while they tried to cope with the state WCKD had just left them in. A majority of their friends were dead and various others captured, taken by the airship that had just departed minutes ago. It had felt like hours since the massive WCKD military convoy had abandoned the Right Arm on the mountain side, leaving the remaining resistance fighters with significantly fewer numbers and dwindling hopes. Although many of the rebels' bodies tried to shut down against their own will, they found that sleep would not come to them and were forced to assist in cleanup efforts until daylight came. Inka and Newt had found themselves victim to this same fate, and after the boy had managed to calm his significantly worse-for-wear British counterpart – it had taken several tries to get her out of her catatonic state as soon as she had been pulled away from the machine gun – the two had slumped against one of the truck's tires together. Their exhaustion had failed to overcome them and they stayed awake, the only sound being the depressing chatter of the other resistance fighters as more bodies were found.

Tears were shed as the sheer losses of the evening became apparent, and the dreadful task of collecting bodies and organizing what little was left of the Right Arm remained. Although each sullen survivor was reluctant to pick themselves up off of the ground to take part in the massive clean up Vince managed to get them on their feet and participating, even if that meant patching each other's injuries up or beginning to collect bodies and placing them in rows. Vince and Harriet had already covered several recognizable rebels in blankets, and gave each other a sorrowful glance each time they dragged their friends' lifeless forms into line. The scene was horrid and pitiful, a symbol of just how much damage WCKD could do even after having ruined each of the remaining survivors' lives thus far.

Guns, rations and ammunition were collected as the rebels walked amongst the ruins of the scorched tents, trying to ignore the putrid stench and the bodies of soldiers that Vince had not bothered to drag into line. The newest arrivals assumed that because the men were enemies they did not deserve the same respectful treatment in death as the resistance fighters, who had chosen to stand for what was right. In the dark of night the black-clothed bodies of the WCKD disciples lay quiet, some of their helmets having come off to reveal another layer of black cloth that only exposed their eyes. Thankfully, none of them were open.

"You alright?" Newt murmured to Inka, who was still sitting next to him against the truck as neither of them had gotten up to assist Harriet and Vince in their endeavors. Newt had not wanted to have been the first one to break the silence but after realizing just how little his voice carried, knew that he could carry on a conversation in private easily. He was also trying to cope with the aftermath of the run-in with WCKD; one of his best friends – and one of the only original friends that had survived in the Glade and understood his suffering – was gone. Taken, by the very organization that had been watching them like hawks for years. The loss of Aris and Sonya was difficult as well, but Minho's lack of presence was what was most prominent in Newt's mind at the moment. In a bout of determination, he tried to ignore the violent, screaming voices of madness in his head and focused on the she-bean sitting before him.

"Fine," Inka shrugged weakly, as if the left side of her face – swollen, bruised and caked in dried blood that smeared her nose and lips as well – did not faze her in the slightest. The truth was that she was in an immense amount of pain, but her heart was numbed at the memory that she had failed Minho and allowed WCKD to escape. She existed in a sort of catatonic state still, drifting in and out of reality as she tried to think of anything other than the rebel's defeat.

"Don't say klunk...you don't look fine," The British boy muttered indignantly, frowning towards her injuries. "Your lip is split."

When the girl did not respond Newt lifted himself up on sore limbs and offered her a hand, waiting until she took it to gently pull her up towards him and begin to walk her towards the tents, intent on finding something to clean her wounds with so that she was not prone to infection. Her steps faltered every several seconds as she trembled with exhaustion, but Newt helped her as best he could and registered how she clung to him while they moved along slowly.

"There's some antiseptic in the blue tent – it's one of the only ones left standing..." Vince muttered dryly as the pair walked past him, vaguely registering that their friends were either checking each other for injuries or beginning to assist in cleanup efforts. "Get her cleaned up."

"That's the plan..." The boy murmured as he continued coaxing Inka towards Dr. Cooper's tent in the dark, where up until very recently the medical professional had been housing Brenda – who had apparently taken to whatever cure she had given her very well.

Upon stepping inside the blue canvas enclosure Newt quickly sat his British counterpart down and searched for any sort of disinfectant, finding a large bottle and a fresh cloth in the process of doing so. The boy also took the time to light a small lantern, ignoring the cold that nipped at his fingertips when he slide his gloves off to do his job properly. Inka did not utter a complaint as Newt wet the rag with the substance and held it on her lip, only grunting in pain and snapping out of her daze when she realized the stinging sensation she was feeling.

"Shit!" She yelped, groaning again as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Ah..."

"I know," Newt grimaced, not liking the fact that he was the one causing her the pain. Whenever he heard her noises of discomfort a ball of protective instincts grew in his stomach, making him realize the intensity of the connection they shared. "Sh...I know – just a couple more seconds."

Inka eyed the cloth with bitterness as he pulled it away from her face, only to go looking for a canteen of water somewhere in the tent. He found one within seconds, and wet the other end of the cloth only to begin wiping away the dried blood that coated her face in clumps. Since there was no mirror Inka was not opposed to him doing this task, and although she felt rather like a child being cleaned by a parent she relished in the fact that Newt was taking care of her. Despite the harsh sting of the antiseptic as he pressed it against another cut on her forehead, his touch was gentle and his expression was nothing but concern.

The British boy could feel her gaze as he did his best to clean her up and fought not to stare back at her piercing ashen orbs, instead concentrating on the small gash that Janson had made when the two had wrestled. His jaw clenched in anger as he looked at the bruises that had formed on Inka's face, causing her skin to swell slightly as the irritated areas tried their best to heal themselves. He detested the man who had helped capture them all and taken Minho back moments ago. His anger only grew when he finished cleaning Inka's wounds and instead moved on to clear all the remaining blood on her face, trying his best to not press down hard on the dark bruises that marred her visage. The giant welts on the left side of her forehead and bottom left cheek, parred with her split lip and black eye, caused for a rather frightening array of injuries that distracted from her large facial scars.

"I hate him," Newt spat out involuntarily, willing himself to hold his anger back so that he could continue to softly clean the blood caking Inka's face. "I _hate_ him."

"I know," She hummed, her expression – initially tight with pain as the wounds on her face burned – softening. She was puzzled by her own manner; usually the subject or thought of Janson would infuriate her to no end, but she found herself shockingly calm and noted that she could not say the same for Newt.

He was tense, that much she could deduce herself as she watched his jaw clench and un-clench in efforts to hide his rage. He finished cleaning her face and dampened the rag again before moving onto her hands, dry with what was presumably a mixture of both her and Janson's blood. Her nose seemed to be alright despite having been delivered quite a beating, but she knew that it had been bleeding profusely up until several minutes go. Surprisingly, Newt's frustration dissipated when he delicately handled her thin wrists and fingers, finding that the soft skin soothed his soul and caused a calm wave of serenity to wash over him that successfully tore his thoughts from the rat man's horrid assault on Inka's body.

"Your fingers are so small," Newt noted, holding one up and watching as it curled around his hand. Inka let a warm feeling grow in her abdomen in response to this, noticing his change in demeanor as soon as he was distracted by her body.

"They're not made of glass you know," Inka teased, appreciating the way he handled her yet wanting to make it clear that she was no breakable damsel. A smirk spread over his face with her comment, cleaning her fingers with a tiny playful dosage of vigor in response. Again he was shocked that in such dark times they were capable of sharing a moment such as this one, making them seem completely separated from the rest of the world.

His mood was quickly shut down however, when the events of the day dawned on him once more and reality smacked him in the face. Inka seemed to notice the change in behavior and thankfully did not question it – an act that once again, Newt thanked her for in the back of his mind as she was the most understanding, calculating and resolute person he had come to know so far.

Inka's mind, although structured similarly with thoughts of current events and how screwed things would be from then on, drifted back to what exactly she had been dreaming about before the first strikes hit the base hours ago. As Newt moved away to place the cloth and antiseptic back where he had retrieved them, she mulled over the option of telling him and decided that it was better for him to know. Despite the time and place that they were in and the fact that they had a million other concerns on their mind, she had unlocked a piece of information in her brain that involved both of them – and Newt was not one to turn down answers anymore.

"I, uhm -" The British girl cleared her throat awkwardly, trying to introduce the subject as smoothly as possible but knowing that there was no easy way to do it. "Before the attack, I...I had a dream."

At this, Newt swiveled around on his heel and turned to stare at Inka with wide eyes, immediately detecting that her subconscious had revealed information.

"And?" His voice was no more than a whisper, detectable only by his counterpart's sharp hearing.

"It wasn't just a dream - it was a memory," She began cautiously. "I was lying down in a room with two men – one was Janson, and the other I didn't recognize. I could barely move; they had me strapped to a gurney and everything felt sluggish and slow. They were talking about my trials...the eighty fourth, and how I'd beaten some sort of record."

Newt came back to sit beside her on the bench, lips pursing slightly as he took the information in and continued to regard her in avid yet concerned curiosity.

"Then they mentioned how I was getting immune to the swipes," Inka continued, eyeing Newt guiltily as if she was sorry she had not mentioned this earlier even though they were both aware they had not been given the chance. "Like Dr. Cooper was talking about. A-and I remember Janson saying that one quote I remembered in my night in the maze."

"What was that?" Newt questioned, even though he was two hundred percent certain he already knew the answer.

"'An eye for an eye leaves everyone blind'," She repeated the phrase that she had spoken in front of him before as well as Alby and Minho, finally breathing easier now that she had identified where it had come from. To hear words and not recognize where they had come from was a very discomforting feeling, and it had left her anxiety-ridden for a long time as that sentence in particular had rattled her.

"I recognize those words – I remember recognizing them when you said them before," Newt grimaced and gripped his golden locks viciously, tugging them as if it would help him remember. "Where the bloody hell is it from? I hear it in my head...I know I've heard it before but I can't place it."

"My best bet is Janson," Inka shook her head in disappointment, assuming that the rat man had an infatuation with the apparent saying and liked to use it on a frequent basis therefore explaining why Newt was familiar with it. Either that, or the man was sick enough to only use it around Newt and Inka so that they would be even more confused when they met again after three long years. "Either way...they started wheeling me somewhere and I couldn't move; it felt like everything was molasses until the lights went away and everything shifted and -"

It was then that Inka faltered in her recollection of her dream, knowing that the explanation would get more complex – and a lot more intense – from here.

"And?" Newt pushed, now knowing that there was more and striving to hear it.

"I saw you," Her eyes seemed to sear his as she breathed the words, causing his heard to nearly stop as the truth in her words dawned on him. There was no trace of a lie on her face; everything was certain and set in stone as she continued her explanation and caused his heartbeat to echo in his own ears as it started up at a frantic pace once more. "And we said things that..."

"That what?" Newt was slightly frantic now, intense curiosity overwhelming him as he locked Inka in a desperate gaze. "What happened? What did you see?"

"We said that we loved each other," Inka spat out, tears building and escaping from her eyes as she allowed herself to ramble on. The situation was overwhelming and frightening, and to be handed so many intense answers in a subconscious state of mind especially before a rather traumatizing attack was beginning to be too much for the small girl. "And that we would never forget, and that we were the only things we had and that we didn't deserve all of this."

Newt let the girl cry, unsure of how to take the information and feeling guilty at the wave of relief that flooded through him when he acknowledged that this meant all the information Mary had told them was true. They really had known each other, loved each other and held each other; their lives really had been controlled by a superior force and they truly had shared an unbreakable bond. And all of those memories – every single possible time and event – had been lost because of the very organization that had declared them such a strong match. It was heartbreaking, causing Newt to take Inka into his arms and cradle her head to the crook of his neck like a mother would have held her child. The touch was intimate and comforting, an expression of trust and love like no other.

"And then they took you," It took a moment for Inka to calm down enough so that she could speak again, voice slightly muffled by Newt's scarf that dried her tears at the same time. "Y-you were gone, and I didn't know what was happening until I felt something here,"

She touched a spot on the side of her neck where she had remembered feeling the localized pain, assuming that it had been the place where any WCKD employees had delivered a swiping dosage to effectively erase any memory. Newt lifted his head slightly to see where she was motioning to and could not see any mark, although he was sure that this was a sign that their captors had taken extra precautions as to not reveal any answers when they had shipped Inka up in the box to the Glade. Again he found a large influx of comfort swell inside of him as his heart rejoiced in the fact that this tiny ball of wonder sitting in his hands had been his all along.

"We said we loved each other?" Newt clarified with her after her shudders and tears had stopped and they were merely resting on each other. He knew why she had been crying; the grief of knowing the intensity of a connection before having it ripped away from you only to forget it completely was painful, and it had been the reason Newt had rejected finding answers for the longest time. She now understood the anguish that came alongside having dreamt such an intimate scene that fortified the fact that an affectionate relationship had existed before her memory wiping, only to wake up to reality and realize that ninety five percent of the puzzle pieces to the story were missing. They were gone; seemingly never to be accessed again in the confines of her stolen mind. WCKD had locked up their brains and hidden the keys, teasing them with trailers of spotty information they could only access in subconscious states.

"We said we loved each other," Inka confirmed, voice now small and weary as the words they had repeated to each other played like a mantra in her head. His tone had been so loving and fond as they had held each other almost knowingly for the last time, only serving to remind her that it was no wonder their bond was so strong after she had come up in the Glade. Her funny little string had been guiding her all along. In fact, his hold on her at the very moment was reminiscent of the way he had held her in her dream, although this moment was much less foggy and muffled.

"You said that I would always be in your heart and that you needed me," Inka continued, reveling in the connection and feeling affection burn bright in her stomach even though it was mind boggling admitting these sorts of truths to someone after such a swipe to the brain. The girl considered herself lucky that their feelings had been intense enough to last the second time around that they had encountered each other. Then again, she pondered as she closed her eyes and huffed out a warm sigh of relief against Newt's neck causing him to shudder involuntarily, this could be explained by the strength of the class one match pairing that several of their encounters had raved about along their journey. The concept no longer confused the pair, and despite Inka's struggle with the fact that what had clearly been her and Newt's loving relationship was swiped by WCKD and basically fondled with for eighteen years of their lives, she was overjoyed that they had emerged out of the mess alive.

"And I said that you were the only thing I had." Inka revealed, pulling her head back to rest her forehead against Newt's and latch onto his heartfelt gaze. "And I asked you to promise that you wouldn't forget about me."

"I don't think my heart ever did, Inka." The boy admitted almost immediately, truthful words cascading down his tongue and out of his mouth like second nature. With her, Newt realized, thought was not required. Actions and words flowed like water in a bubbling brook and continued at a never ending rate that neither of them minded.

He let these natural emotions consume him, washing over each and every cell in his body until he was prompted to dip his head down towards her and catch her lips in a searing kiss. Despite the small split on her lip stinging in protest she responded instantly, mewling slightly before tangling her fingers that Newt adored so much in his golden hair. Soon her injury was forgotten, and they were caving into each other as if they were the last puzzle pieces on a giant board game. The rise and fall of their chests' increased as the two gave into the demands their systems asked for, basking in the effortless rhythm that allowed them to explore each other with ease and granted them a slice of heaven for the small amount of time they had. Once more, hearts swelled and two desperate youths held each other as tightly as they could in their passionate embrace.

Inka's breath hitched when Newt passed the barrier of her mouth once more, causing him to let out a shudder that shook him straight to his core. Tongues battled for victory as the two became lost within one another, each second that passed by feeding the glowing ball of affection inside of them. Pants escaped the mouths of the intertwined pair when they found the heat forced them to separate momentarily, only crashing back together when they had filled their lungs with a sufficient amount of oxygen.

"Newt..."

His name came out of her bright red lips in a breathy sigh, as if she was relieved beyond belief that this instance was not a dream and instead a very true reality. The velvety tone of her voice sent another shiver through Newt, causing him to detach himself from her swollen lips and begin to pepper kisses across her jawline. The action made her curve towards him, purring gently as he reached her throat and gave it the same exhilarating treatment. His lips – red from the nipping and pressure that they had been put under for the last several minutes – teased and bit gently at the supple skin only to suck on the sore spots milliseconds later. At this, Inka's other hand moved from it's place on Newt's chest to join her other in his hair, losing herself in the locks while his paws stayed implanted on the sides of her face.

His hold on her was gentle, carefully avoiding the bruised areas as his goal was to sweep her up in the moment rather than remind her of her wounds. He felt himself becoming more and more disconnected with reality as they both sunk into the moment, escaping from the situation they had been thrust into in these sorts of short moments that felt as though they stretched along for eternity. Newt knew that they could not continue like this; the situation outside called for their attention and although he was certain that they could both easily lose themselves in the throes of passion they needed to cease their actions.

So why couldn't he stop?

The British boy quickly realized that this tiny woman – a force to be reckoned with that always put up a considerable fight – who was clinging to him as if he was the only person on earth and pulling him further into a land of pleasure, was like a drug. Her touch was addictive; it prompted trembles and gasps wherever it went and made his head sick with satisfaction. And his lips, which caused a burning trail of what felt like fire against her neck, was a confirmation that Inka felt the same way.

"Tell me to stop," Newt stopped to rest his forehead against hers for a moment while he caught his breath, finding that she had stolen it and that all of a sudden it was very warm in the medical tent.

Inka simply took her small hand, still intertwined in his hair, and slid it down to pull the back of his neck forward so that she could fuse their lips back together. The boy did not protest besides letting out a low grunt of surprise, frowning slightly as he tried to get his foggy mind – infected with euphoria and distracted by the panting she-bean he held – clear. Her actions signified a silent protest that pushed for them to stay together, a wordless tribute that she did not want him to stop at all even though she knew just as well as him that they would have to pull away from each other sooner rather than later. They both wanted to live in the ignorant bubble of a universe that they had temporarily created a bit longer and pretend that everything going on around them outside did not exist.

"This is going to sound insane," Inka tried to catch her breath, subconsciously nibbling at her lower lip and tempting Newt to take a plunge towards her mouth once more. "But I'm glad I came up in that box."

"I remember the day you came back from the maze," He relived the relief he had felt the day she had returned alive and kissed her once, twice, and then a third time, noticing how their lips almost suctioned together to protest separation. Because of this he continued to press himself against the girl, holding her as if she was as delicate as a butterfly and ignoring his shortness of breath until he had kissed the oxygen out of both of their lungs once more.

"And you have no idea," Newt rasped as he pulled back and burned her with his passionate gaze, not surprised to find her eyes just as vigorous while she stared back. "How many bloody tomatoes I picked that day just to keep my mind off of you."

The two fell back into step again, this time more slowly as they abandoned their rushed pace and clutched at each other with everything they had. Their coping mechanism as to avoid and forget about the bodies littering the ground outside their tent worked wonders as the two youths lost themselves in each other, whimpers and sighs diffusing through the air around them until they knew their time was up. The night could only last so long and they needed to tend to their fallen comrades, knowing that the dead rebellion fighters lying in droves around the Right Arm's encampment. Yet neither of the pair could bring themselves to move, and so they sat for as many moments they could spare, leaning on each other in every way imaginable as they assisted each other in dealing with the harsh and cruel reality surrounding them.

But as with all good things, the moment had to come to an end.

"We can't ignore it," Inka chided her and Newt's actions, their wide blown pupils eyeing each other knowingly. "We have to go help..."

"I know," Newt nodded gently, dropping his hands from where they were resting on each of her cheeks and instead taking her hands into his. He did not want to think; did not want to calculate or decide what to do at that moment. He did not want to think about what had happened hours ago; did not want to think of his best friend being stolen from him once more. "I just want to melt."

Newt did not need her kiss to his forehead to understand that she was of the same opinion, and allowed her to tug him upwards and guide him out of the tent where the catastrophe smacked them in the face once more. The ever so present darkness that shrouded what was left of the torn encampment only served as a reminder that Minho and Aris had been taken, and now corpses of both rebellion fighters and WCKD combat forces were the only evidence that the evil organization had ever struck the mountain side. Harriet and Vince were still collecting every weapon, food and medical supply as well as covering bodies, not asking for assistance from any of the other survivors but receiving it anyhow.

"Minho's gone," Newt found a lump growing in his throat as he looked up at the stars, feelings of failure and inevitable demise creeping up on him. "Aris is gone."

He did not receive a reply from anyone for several moments, but he knew that his dejected tone had been heard clearly enough.

"Sonya is gone," Harriet replied to his comment bitterly after a bit, tossing an assault rifle to Vince who threw it into an immense duffel bag. Newt did not reply.

As the remaining survivors cleaned – several rebel fighters had been found unconscious or injured and were quickly taken care of by the group – the sun began to trickle over the horizon. It's rays of light did not bring much warmth to the rebels, who wrapped themselves up further in as many articles of clothing as they could find and continued assisting with suffering combatants. The amount of dead overwhelmed the amount of dwindling resistance fighters, many of which had both broken bodies and spirits by this point.

There was no way to completely organize the chaotic mess that WCKD had left behind after abducting their friends once more, but the survivors tried as best they could until the sun rose high in the sky. By this point, Victor and Harriet had stacked the last of the bodies into rows and covered them with blankets, silently praying up to the sky for some sort of relief after such destruction. The mountain side was quiet as each last person left standing alive mourned the losses as well as thanked whatever higher power had arranged for their survival. It was moments like this that Newt felt particularly guilty, especially when he saw the feet of several dead Right Arm members sticking out from underneath the blankets. He was surprised when he felt the same guilt as his eye caught the helmet of a WCKD soldier.

Stopping his aimless wandering amongst the ruins of the encampment – he and Inka had taken to scouring the mess for any last weapons laying around – to stop and pick up the object, fixing the black material with a harsh gaze. These were the lives of real people, he realized, stopping for a moment as he took in the fact that despite that the combat forces had been most likely brainwashed from birth they were still conscious breathing beings that may have chosen the right path if given the opportunity. Then again, he pondered as he set the helmet down on a medical supply crate to peer at it more closely in the light, it was also possible that the soldiers had chosen their path and truly did hate the rebel forces that threatened to tear down Ava Paige's 'hard work'.

"Aeschylus said that truth is the first casualty of war," Jorge's tone broke the long silence that had fallen over the encampment, causing those in his vicinity to turn and look towards him. His quote both surprised and captured them, and they sat waiting for the next part of his speech as he crossed his arms from his placed beside Brenda – who was looking very healthy despite her obvious condition. "But who defines what is true?"

"WCKD," Inka responded without missing a beat, passing off a gun that she had found on the ground to Vince.

"Maybe in the maze," Newt shook his head and looked towards his counterpart, chipping in his two cents even though he acknowledged that her ordeal with Janson had somewhat wracked her. "But not out here."

"Then who defines what is true?" Brenda rasped defeatedly, sitting down on a crate near Frypan. She and the rest of the group stared up at Jorge for an answer, who lifted his eyebrows mysteriously.

"We do," His eyes sparkled slightly as the words came out of his mouth, showing off that despite the dismal circumstances nothing dampened the fire alive inside of him. "And if we do not tell the truth, WCKD will tell it for us. The truth may hurt, yes, but a lie will hurt forever – and it will cost us everything."

"I would rather a cruel truth than a comfortable delusion," Inka agreed sourly, running a hand with nails that she had not remembered to be so long before through her short, choppy hair. A foul taste sat in her mouth at the thought of just how many lies WCKD had exposed them to, taking advantage of their lives and toying with them like puppets. She was angry, resentful, exhausted, vengeful and worst of all, miserable that she had not been able to save her friends – all emotions that Inka was more than certain the people around her were feeling as well.

"So what do we do now?" Frypan sighed, rubbing his face in his hands as he tried to think of a possible way to avoid an oncoming heart attack that came along with the stresses of such a horrid life. He too, felt like striking back at the horrid organization that had kidnapped his friends once again, but did not even know where to begin finding hope.

"Well," Vince began after a while, looking towards Jorge who had seated himself next to Brenda. He rapidly checked ammunition on guns that they had scavenged, knowing that they would need to be fully prepared for another ambush. "We pick up what's left of us, we stick to the plan, and we get you kids to the safe haven. Then we start over, I guess."

"I'm not going with you," The sudden blurt had come from Thomas, who had gone unnoticed so far despite his rapid packing of a bag that he was now slinging across one shoulder.

"What?" Vince – and the rest of the survivors – stared towards the boy in disbelief, wondering for a brief horrible moment if he too had turned on them just like Teresa.

"I made a promise to Minho that I wouldn't leave him behind," Thomas shook his head, ignoring any protest that his friends put up and continued to talk with a new found purpose in his tone. "And now that they took Aris, Sonya – everyone else...I have to go after them. They're my friends."

Vince stood up in a brief fit of frustration and faced the tall boy, eyes darkening considerably as he tried to make him realize what a risk he would be taking. Thomas clearly had no idea what he was up against even after the evil organization had ransacked the Right Arm's base of operations and eliminated a vast majority of them with one simple combat unit, and the rough man was in denial that there was any possibility of any stupid counterattack working out.

"Look around you kid – look at her fuckin' face," Vince motioned towards Inka, who grimaced at the sheer guilt that washed over her when the intensely muscled man pinpointed her injuries and shifted closer to Newt out of reflex. This only served as a reminder of her failure and was rather painful to hear, especially when she knew Vince's next words were going to be negative de-incentivizers for Thomas. "WCKD just kicked our ass. Think about where you're headed."

"I'm not asking anyone to come with me," Thomas reiterated, shaking his head as Frypan and Newt stood to face him incredulously.

"Thomas – listen to me. I've known Minho for – well, for..." The British boy tripped over his words as he fixed Thomas with a hard gaze, realizing that he had known Minho since the first year of being in the Glade. His friend's arrival had marked the beginning of Newt's second life, causing a lump to form in his throat as he felt the reality of what had just happened dawn on him once more. "...for as long as I can remember."

Thomas regarded the ex-second in command silently, prompting him to continue making his point. Newt knew that it was unlikely that his speech would stop the boy from going through with his plan, but he needed to remind him that it was nigh impossible that they were going to be able to save Minho – or Aris, Sonya and the rest of the rebels, for that matter. He did not want to accept this fact himself, but he knew that he would need to understand the situation they would put themselves in if they were to try and go after the captured group.

"So if there was any way that we could help him," Newt continued, shaking his head as if he regretted telling Thomas this news. "Trust me, I would be up there standing next to you – we all would. But this, what you're talking about? Is impossible."

"More like suicide," Jorge corrected, lifting himself from his spot beside Brenda as the two made there way over to stand beside Thomas.

"Maybe," The boy in question conceded, tipping his head slightly in the direction of the Hispanic man. "But I know what I'm supposed to do now. It's not just about Minho. It's about all of us; it's about everyone WCKD's ever taken...everyone they _will_ take."

"And they're never going to stop, Thomas," Inka gritted out reluctantly, not wanting to agree with Vince but seeing the point that he was trying to make as Thomas met her eyes. She motioned all around her, scoffing hollowly as she punctuated her point. "They don't give back; look at this, look at me, look at your friends, look at every fucking person they took on that giant war machine – all they ever do is take."

"They'll never stop – you're right," Thomas repeated, clutching the strap of his bag and beginning to nod in what seemed to be a trance. "So I'm gonna stop them. I'm going to kill Ava Paige."

A sort of trance fell over the group as they all regarded the boy speaking, small fires lighting in their eyes as the vigor he held inside of him passed onto their exhausted souls. It took a moment, but the passion infected the rebellion fighters and Vince even found himself nodding after several seconds. Brenda and Jorge shared a meaningful look, admitting to themselves that this group had affected them more than they had expected and that they too, felt the pull towards delivering vengeance. Inka could feel her chest swelling with determination, sore jaw clenching as she admitted to herself that her vigor to fire a bullet right between Janson's eyebrows was more than intense.

"I've got to admit," The British girl spat out, sucking on the tear in her lip as she crossed her arms and huffed out a sharp sigh through her nose. The colossal mountain of anger growing inside of her that had resulted from her discovery that Janson had used her as a puppet for three years – all part of a bigger scheme of eliminating her entire generation for a reason that was ethically questionable – had not even neared it's highest point, and was still rising inside of her. She could not describe the fury that was paired with Janson's face smirking back at her inside of her brain, scalding her with anger each time she thought of the rat man. "I want some revenge. I will have vengeance; whether in this life or the next. WCKD will pay for what they've done."

There was a moment of silence as seven pairs of eyes flickered towards Inka's face, momentarily ignoring her more present injuries to instead trace over her scars. The white lines of scar tissue moved slightly as she scowled, sending a shiver through Newt as he felt the intensity roll off of her in waves. There was not doubt in his mind that she wanted to murder Janson for what he had done to her; and he could fully attest to sharing her emotions after discovering that Ava Paige had been responsible for him and his friends' suffering. It only took one look around the circle of survivors to confirm that they all felt the same way, visages hardening as they recognized that the fate of the human race sat in the palms of their hands.

"Well - that's a good speech kid," Vince nodded once, turning back towards the boy expectantly as he finally gave in to the hype. "What's your plan?"

Time stood still, as if the scorched earth could detect that at this very moment history would be made on the very ground indescribable destruction had taken place. It was then that it was realized that the hope of the rebellion would never die; all that was taken to spark an act of change was a catalyst that involved having faith – and at this point it was clear that despite the beating they had received no one was ready to give up hope quite yet. The survivors of a brutal war against humanity – united by the horrid crimes committed against them – stood staring at the boy who had re-birthed an immense, fiery phoenix of hope inside of them and ready to follow him wherever he lead. It was almost certain however, that this time around WCKD's blood would be at the end of the line.

Thomas took his cue and heaved a breath, readying himself before beginning to speak.

Everything was going to change.

 **A/N: So this is going to be the last chapter for a long time – I'm taking a break from this story to wait until the last movie comes out, as I have stated previously that I wish my tale to be a mix of both the movie and a bit of the books (I enjoy them both although I lean much more towards the movie version as you can tell) and this requires the movie to be out before I continue writing. Up until that point I'll be focusing on some of my other works and revising this story.**


End file.
